


Love Breeds Sacrifice

by monkkeyslut



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkkeyslut/pseuds/monkkeyslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to prove your worth to someone who doesn't give a damn about you is hard, but Black Star has the perfect plan: give his dad the Shadow Weapon. Only, she doesn't want to go with him and his cousin is on the same job. In order to get back to the clan compound and give the Shadow Weapon to his father, Black Star must avoid Green Star, the Shadow Weapon's friends, and deal with the Shadow Weapon herself, who insists on showing him how bad the Star Clan is in every annoying way possible. He also must come to terms with the horrible truths about his family, and make a choice that could ruin everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Viola, my resbang! I'm incredibly proud of this, both because I finished it early and because I actually did it. Maybe it's a Resbang thing. I'd like to give a HUGE shout out to my betas, Ashlie, Lucy, and Rachel, and my artist Supermacaquecool. They were all super supportive and lovely and they're the best.

Hiroshi knew they were coming even before Ryuuji told him. He had known for a while, since Haruki fought the swordsman Mifune, since Minako had first consumed that human’s soul. It was only a matter of time before Shibusen caught wind of what they were doing, and now they were coming.

He had considered ceasing their operations until things died down a little, but Kenji had said they were getting too big, too powerful. Minako was pregnant with her third child, Izumi with her first; Jiro had a daughter and Kenji had the twins--it was true that they were growing in size, and Hiroshi imagined that Kenji was right. Shibusen did not agree with what they did, but they were a quiet group and they kept to themselves. If they grew any bigger, they would become a much larger threat.

The treeline was dark and ominous, enough so to send prickles of dread down Hiroshi’s back. He had faith that the others could take care of themselves should an attack come (and it would, if their information was correct), but he knew if the scythe meister (either Stein or the new girl, who they had all heard much about--in fact, she had killed Gold Star only months earlier) came, they would not escape without losses.

The air shifted around him, and Hiroshi turned to look at his brother. Haruki had a look of exhaustion on his face, but beyond that there was something else. Wakefulness, perhaps. Madness. He knew Haruki’s son was a colicky bastard, that Izumi was taking a while to heal from the birth, and he felt bad for his brother, he did, but there were other things to worry about, and if he was there to ask about their next soul run, Hiroshi would send him through a wall.

“How does it look out there?” He asked instead, fingers tap-tap-tapping against a wooden beam. Hiroshi looked back out to the trees, eyes narrowing. He sometimes wished he were like those meisters, the ones who could see souls. It would make things much easier.

Hiroshi shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Quiet, but you know those academy bastards. They’re excellent at surprise attacks.”

“Well we’re ninja,” Haruki boasted, sounding more like White Star than he had in a while. It had the hair on Hiroshi’s arms lifting. “They may be good at surprise attacks, but we’re better.”

Turning, Hiroshi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? You’ve planned something?” In the low light, it almost looked like Haruki’s eyes were stars. “Haru--”

The pain was instantaneous, but he found he could not shout. There was a hand through his middle, wrapped around his spine, and Hiroshi looked up into his brother’s eyes.

He should not have been shocked at what he found there. Pupils blown wide and in the shapes of stars, Hiroshi realized what his brother was doing, only it was too late.

“You shouldn’t have told Jiro what you were planning, brother,” White Star said, voice calm and sly. Hiroshi heard something in the distance; a cry, maybe. Whatever it was, White Star seemed to grin at it. He leaned forward and Hiroshi could smell the souls on his brother’s breath, felt a lick of hunger in his stomach, even with the hand through his middle. This was why his plan was the best option, why hadn’t Haruki understood that?

“You’ll bring us to ruin,” Hiroshi choked out, blood filling his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He willed himself to be Black Star, to be a weapon and not a brother, but he couldn’t. It hurt too much. “The Star Clan was great once--I could have...made us...great...”

White Star pulled his hand from the gore of his brother’s corpse and watched as he dropped to the ground. It was strange, he thought as he wiped his hand off on his shirt, how he felt nothing.

Hiroshi was a fool, he thought to himself, lifting his eyes to the treeline. A woman stepped through, the mace in her hand trembling. Beyond him, he could hear screams, laughter, death. He hoped Jiro had the good sense to get the kids out of there.

White Star felt that familiar rush of adrenaline, and when the meister screamed for her dead weapon, he felt invincible.

* * *

 

Izumi startled awake, one hand reaching for the sleeping bundle beside her, while the other gripped the dagger beneath her pillow. She wasn’t sure what the noise was that woke her--perhaps the baby had made a noise in his sleep--but it was enough to have her on alert.

The bedroom was dark, no moonlight filtering in through the window. Her skills were not as sharp as they had been before the pregnancy, but they were sharp enough. She couldn’t see anything moving in the shadows and couldn’t sense anyone there either.

After several minutes of waiting, Izumi released a breath.

A glance to her left told her that Haruki was nowhere to be found. Probably out with Jiro and Minako, she figured, turning back to her baby.

He looked adorable all swaddled in the blanket Rika had picked out, and Izumi was still baffled that she and Haruki could make something as cute as him. His little nose scrunched up when she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his face, but he didn’t wake. Izumi sighed, lying back in bed, pressing a hand over her forehead. He was a colicky baby, but Kenji said that the leaves she mixed into his milk would help it.

She was nearly asleep again when she heard the noise once more--a scream--and then the sound of her bedroom door sliding open.

Izumi was on her feet despite the pain, dagger in hand as she surveyed the darkness. A shadowed shape stepped forward into the little light she had and she relaxed slightly when she recognized the white mop of hair her husband was so well known for. “What the hell is going on--” She started to say, but the blood on his hands and his shirt told her enough. They had come, just as Mifune said they would.

She turned back to the baby without saying anything to Haruki--he was White Star, right now--and scooped him up into her arms, startling him into wakefulness. She winced as his piercing cry echoed throughout the air, and White Star growled under his breath. “Dammit, Izumi, shut him up!”

Whispering softly to the baby, she turned back to her husband. His eyes were dark and star-shaped. How many souls has he had tonight? She began to wonder, but then his hand was on her elbow, steering her toward the hidden door in their room. “Are the children alright?” She asked as he slammed a fist against the wall, popping the door open. The baby continued to cry, and Izumi willed him to quiet before White Star lost his temper.

“They’re fine,” he muttered gruffly, shoving her through the door.

“Hiroshi? Minako?”

For a moment, his mask seemed to break, and she knew one of them was gone. Maybe even both. If Stein were here, or even Kami, then--

“I am Clan Head, now,” White Star said, voice back and controlled. His eyes drifted to the baby, his tiny face twisted up in a scream. “Black Star is a good name, isn’t it?”

Oh, Izumi realized almost numbly. Hiroshi is gone. “Yes, of course.”

White Star lifted his eyes to her face then, and she could hear commotion outside their room. Yelling. “You know where to go, don’t you?”

Izumi nodded, pulling Black Star to her chest. The adrenaline made all the pain seem to fade away, but she knew it would hit her again soon if she didn’t go.

White Star stared at her for a moment longer before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her mouth; it was savage and desperate and Izumi prayed to whatever gods would still listen to her that it wasn’t their last. “I’ll be with you soon,” he said as he broke the kiss, stepping away and slamming the door shut before she could reply.

There was no sound now, and Izumi started down the dark tunnel, singing softly to Black Star.


	2. Chapter 2

The compound was home, even when it wasn’t.

It was his mom and dad, his uncle and cousins. It was training with Chika and sparring with Makoto, fighting with Naomi and Rika. It was late nights with Minako and Kenji, and dinner with Katsuya and Daichi. It was his family, even if he was banished.

Black Star had heard a lot of bad shit about the Star Clan in his life, especially during his banishment, and yeah, most of it was true. They killed and they did it for money; they stole, destroyed, and ruined a lot of shit; Black Star would happily be the first to admit it. He had, after all, grown up learning the easiest way to kill someone, how to break someone mentally and physically, how to blend in where you didn’t belong. He knew first hand how cruel they could be. Black Star knew better than anyone what kind of people his family were.

But they were not soul eaters.

The accusation made his blood boil and bile rise in his throat. His family were monsters, sure, but they weren’t the type who killed and then ate someone’s soul. They weren’t that horrible, and anyone who said otherwise were probably selling something. His family--his father--could never do something so vile.

(Even though some times, some nights when his mother would scream and his dad would laugh, and laugh, and laugh, Black Star had to wonder.)

It was because of those rumours and accusations that Uncle Hiroshi--the original Black Star--was killed. It was why Minako was blind, why Katsuo was killed with a Death Scythe through his chest.

Shibusen, the academy for meisters and weapons--it was them who sent his family into hiding. They tarnished their reputation, and it was because of them that Black Star grew up knowing what an empty stomach felt like. Nobody wanted to hire a group of assassins who apparently ate the souls of those they killed and those they worked for. It just wasn’t worth it. It took years before people started trusting them enough (or, in Katsuya’s bitter words, got desperate enough) to hire them again.

So when Chika showed up one night, telling him his dad sent Green Star on a job to kidnap one of Shibusen’s most important students, the Shadow Weapon, Black Star was more than happy to take the job, too.

* * *

 

Being banished was alright, sometimes.

You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. You can eat anything and go to sleep whenever. There aren’t any strict rules, no curfew or workout regimens. Best of all, there isn’t White Star.

Make no mistake, Black Star loves his dad. He taught him most of what he knew, but there was something exhilarating and freeing being away from him, away from the whole compound. Sure, he missed it sometimes, when the tree he’d been forced to sleep in was creaking and the world outside it was too loud--he missed his mom’s soothing voice, or Chika’s rumbling snores. He missed it after not eating for a week due to lack of funds and couldn’t keep the thought of Katsuya’s cooking out of his head. Being banished was lonely, sometimes, but he deserved the loneliness and everything that came with it. He’d made his bed, so he had to lie in it.

But being banished didn’t mean he wasn’t able to see his family. His dad had made it pretty clear that should he ever step foot in Himura again he’d be killed, and Black Star is sure that White Star told the others the same thing, or that even being caught fraternizing with him would mean the same punishment, but it didn’t stop all of them.

Chika was five weeks older than him and his closest friend. She was the youngest of his Aunt Minako’s daughters--the original Red Star and probably the most badass of the whole Clan, even blind--and if the stories his mom told were true, then the two of them were just like White Star and Red Star when they were kids.

Growing up, they’d trained together and gone on small jobs together. He’d been banished because of Chika, and Black Star secretly thought that might be the reason she risked her place in the Clan to come see him. Still, he never minded the company.

She came on a Tuesday night, interrupting the arm wrestling tournament he and the other pub crawlers had started. He notices her first, just a flicker of red in the corner of his eye, and he only has enough time to pull his own arm from the other man’s grip before her boot slams down, smashing the table clean in half.

They both had a bit of the flair for dramatic.

Chika grins and he grins back. She is a sight for sore eyes and he is more than happy to see her safe and alive still. Since he’s left, she’s moved on up the chain of command and has begun taking more dangerous jobs. “Hey, you dumb prick,” Chika says, ignoring the angry protests of the bar patrons and the anguished cry from the barkeeper. “Wanna get outta here?”

“Shit yeah,” he nods, following her through the thick crowd of people who had piled into the bar. Chika is nearly invisible in the crowd and if he wasn’t trained, he probably wouldn’t have been able to follow her. She moves quick and is small to boot.

Once outside, they are finally allowed to breathe. The air is cool and smells ripe with alcohol and smoke, but Black Star doesn’t mind nearly as much as Chika, whose nose visibly crinkles.

As they begin to walk toward the tiny inn he’d managed to procure a room at, Chika begins, “So I think your dad is trying to make Makoto his heir? And Uncle Jiro is all for it, which sucks because Daichi would be a much better substitute in lieu of you.”

He tries not to, but he knows his face has twisted in a mix of anger and hurt. His dad could be a real fuck sometimes, and he certainly knows how to rub a guy’s banishment in his face. Makoto is probably ecstatic too, the fucker. “Good for him,” Black Star snaps when Chika peeks at him in the corner of her eye. His hand tightens around his bicep, nails leaving angry red scratches in their wake. “I hope he blows it. Or gets blown up. It doesn’t really matter.”

“White Star is sending him on his first big job,” Chika continues, unfazed. “To get the Nakatsukasa Shadow Weapon.”

Something starts in the pit of his stomach, and he can almost see Chika’s plan coming along. “Oh yeah?”

Chika hums, hands clasped behind her back. To anyone on the street with them, they look like normal kids, maybe even boyfriend and girlfriend. Nobody would suspect that they are trained killers, or that they can burn this whole town to the ground in an hour, if needed.

They don’t speak again until they are inside his room, the door safely latched behind them. Chika could be killed for telling him stuff like this, and they are both very aware of it. Still, she is the picture of tranquility as she sits cross legged on his bed.

Black Star moves to sit on the desk directly across from her and he is the next one who speaks, “Do you think Makoto could do it? I know the Nakatsukasa family has two children and one of them is the Enchanted Sword, but I’ve only really ever heard of him.”

“The Shadow Weapon is strong,” Chika confirms, nodding sagely. “She usually wields herself and she is a part of that stupid Spartoi squad? The one with the uh...gods, what’s his name? The Death Scythe who is actually a scythe?”

Black Star stares blankly. Chika sighs, “Well, his daughter is a powerful scythe meister and she’s on the team too. And Lord Death’s son.”

Makoto won’t be able to beat them, Black Star realizes. Was it part of his dad’s plan? He wouldn’t put it past White Star, but still...he can’t believe Jiro and Naomi are letting Makoto go on such a dangerous job. It’s ridiculous.

Chika must have read his mind or something because she says, very quietly, “You’ve been gone for two years, ‘Star...Makoto is much better than he used to be.”

He grits his teeth. Of course Makoto is much better, White Star has probably been training him since the day Black Star was banished. But Chika was here for more than that, and he could see she is building herself up. “Did you know that the Shadow Weapon and her team are in Japan right now? Needle Village, if I’m right.” Chika’s eyes rise to meet his, and Black Star smirks.

“Now, wouldn’t it be horrible if Makoto’s job was interrupted somehow? I also imagine that getting the Shadow Weapon could remove any previous slights from the benefactor’s memory.” Chika shrugs, leaning farther back on the bed. Black Star was already planning how he would capture the Shadow Weapon, how he would rub it in Makoto’s stupid fucking face. This is the perfect opportunity to get back into the Clan--the plan had always been to do something worthwhile, to get back into his father’s good graces, but with the Shadow Weapon, not only would he earn a spot in the Clan once more, but he would also likely be able to get back in the running for Leader.

“Alright,” Black Star nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s he want her for?”

Chika stares at him for a long time, grey eyes intent on his. If she were anyone else, he might be uncomfortable, but he knows what she is doing. She is trying to make sure he’s serious about this, trying to see where his loyalties truly lie, trying to see how this will all play out. Chika may be his right hand man, but she’s also only loyal to herself.

She seems to like what she sees, because she says, “Leverage. They want her for leverage,” and Black Star tries to comprehend what she’s saying.

“You mean like...she’s a hostage until her clan pays for her?”

Chika gives him a withering look. “I mean, not only is she valuable to her clan, she’s valuable to Shibusen. Her brother is a step away from becoming a kishin--bad blood between them, him only inheriting the enchanted sword and what not--so she is the only one to carry on the gene. We’ll play a little hostage game, keep the Clan and the Academy off our backs.”

“So...we can...keep her?”

Groaning, Chika slaps a hand over her forehead. “Essentially, you fucking idiot.”

Damn. Killing her and bringing her dead ass body back to the compound would be easy as shit, but keeping her alive? And if she was as strong as Chika was going on about then she’d be a pain in the ass to take with. If she were really going to be their hostage, how would they even manage to keep her there anyway?

Maybe he should have listened to the plan they had for her before he’d lead Chika to believe he was down for this. But he couldn’t back out now--this was more than just Chika’s way for him to get back into the Clan. It was her way of making sure he was leader material. If he wasn’t prepared to do this, if he didn’t think he could do it, then she wouldn’t be helping him.

Setting his jaw, Black Star levels his gaze at her.  Chika’s eyes are sharp, cunning, and not for the first time, Black Star realizes how serious she is about all of this. She’s throwing her lot in with him, and she knows the risk. If Makoto comes out victorious, he’ll know there was a snitch.

He’ll know it was Chika.

“Can you do it, ‘Star?”

No, he thinks. Maybe. “Hell yeah, Chiks. I got this shit.”

* * *

 

They spend the rest of the night talking about the clan and about his life outside it. They don’t talk any more about the mission, but it’s not far from either of their minds.

By the time Chika has to leave it’s an hour before dawn. She yawns loud enough that Black Star nearly tells her to stay and rest before her trip home, but he knows better.

He clasps her hand as she makes her way around the bed, holding it a second longer than normal. This might be the last time...

“Stay safe,” Chika murmurs, meeting his eyes. Her hair is a messy red halo around her head, but she still looks like she could kick his ass into next week. “The next time we see each other, you’ll be home. Everything will change.”

He grins at her, squeezing her hand a second longer before letting it go. He rests it against his arm, scratching it idly. Her eyes follow the movement, darkening slightly. But then her eyes flicker back up, back to normal. Chika’s smile is smaller, more subdued, and as she makes her way toward the door he drops back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“...and ‘Star?” Chika calls, not turning around. He moves his arm to peek at her. Her shoulders are tense and she suddenly looks very, very small. “I know you don’t believe most of the rumors you hear but...but some of them are a lot more true than you’d think.”

Before he has a chance to ask what the fuck she’s talking about, Chika is gone.

* * *

 

Needle Village looks like shit and that’s saying something, considering it probably looked like shit before. He can see smoke rising near the middle of the village and there is a lot of screaming or shouting--possibly both.

For an elite squad, the Shibusen losers sure cause a lot of damage. Even from the tree he’s standing in, he can see caved in roofs and more than one fire. He would laugh if he wasn’t about to go into a possibly life-ending fight. Quickly, he pats himself down to make sure he’s got all of his weapons, which he does, and then he steels himself. Going into a fight half-cocked is what’s gotten him into trouble countless times before, and with something this big, he’s not planning on fucking it up.

With a quick inhale-exhale, Black Star jumps from the tree, hitting the ground running. If they’re in there fighting pre-kishin, then all he’ll need to do is slip in, hit her with the gas bomb he’d picked up on the way there and take her away. Her friends probably wouldn’t notice until he had set a good distance, and by the time the Shadow Weapon woke up, he’d be able to perform the quick spell that Ryuuji had gotten off a witch and had taught him to bind her.

If they are fighting Makoto, who had a head start and probably a single-minded purpose, then he might be fucked. Either way, Black Star is not leaving today without her.

As he makes his way into the village, he is overwhelmed by the stench of rotting flesh. It is something that he will never be able to get used to. Kishin and pre-kishin are something he doesn’t like to fuck with--they’re messy and gross and too much trouble, and then there is the issue of what the fuck do you do with the soul? He won’t eat it--he isn’t a fucking idiot, and he isn’t going to feed the rumours that the rest of his family are soul eaters either--so there’s no point in dealing with them.

But there have to be dozens here, scrambling through the village and tearing people apart. Black Star keeps to the shadows, if only to stay out of the line of sight of the stupid meisters. He isn’t a meister himself, but Black Star knows that you were supposed to kill the pre-kishin before they become full-fledged kishin, not destroy the town you’re supposed to protect.

But that’s none of his business.

He spots a scythe meister all bloodied and bruised up and notes that she is definitely who Chika was talking about, and judging from the souls around her, she’s living up to her reputation. Further ahead, a pink-haired girl is waving around a...torch? A flame-thrower? He’s really not sure.

There are meisters crawling all over this damn place--a pale kid with black hair and white stripes, a black guy with braids, a bald loser with stupid sunglasses--but he doesn’t see a lone fighter which is why he’s fucking here.

A pre-kishin spots him and swipes out with a clawed tail. Black Star only has a second to dodge it and pull out his wakizashi to slice off the stupid limb, but it still manages to slice a long, shallow cut down his leg which, fuck.

He turns a corner quickly as the pre-kishin behind him lets out a shriek and nearly runs headlong into a chick. Lucky for him, he’s got excellent reflexes and manages to grab her arms and twist so she’s behind him and he’s still on his way, only--

“Makoto,” he breathes, eyes widening as his cousin skids to a stop. Behind him, he hears the pre-kishin slide through the mud and down the street he’d turned on, but he’s too focused on how different Makoto looks now. His arms are thicker, his chest wider. A long scar cuts his face almost perfectly in half, and Black Star is amazed at how much can change in two years. Makoto used to be a wiry, small kid who could barely fight his way out of a paper bag and now he was--this.

Shock filters across his face briefly before settling on rage. “You need to leave,” Makoto snarls, face twisting into something ugly. “And maybe I won’t fucking kill you.”

Black Star tightens his hand around his sword, fingers sweating. “Like you could, pussy. Anyway, I’m here for something, so move along.”

The hair on the back of his neck stands up then, and he realizes he forgot about the pre-kishin. He whips around to look for it, but all he sees is a red soul hovering in the air, and the girl who he’d bumped into’s hair shifting back from a chain scythe.

This time, Black Star really looks at her. Her clothes are ripped in places, she’s got blood all over her from various different wounds, and her chest is heaving far more than someone whose on an elite team should. And thinking about it, Makoto had looked a little worse for wear, too.

“Hey there, Shadow Weapon,” he smirks.

Her eyes meet his and there is something there--almost like she’s pleading, but behind that it’s like steel, and Black Star doesn’t think, he just acts.

His hands are sweating and damp from the rain, and he loses his grip on the gas bomb as Makoto flies past him, hand outstretched and already wrapped around the Shadow Weapon’s throat. Her face is red from rage and exertion and while one hand rises to tear at the skin of Makoto’s hand, the other grabs her ribs.

Meanwhile, his stupid fucking gas bomb goes off.

Immediately, Black Star smacks a hand over his mouth and fumbles for the mask he’d brought with him. Already, he feels sluggish, but it works out in his favour because Makoto was too stupid to cover his mouth, and the Shadow Weapon is already beat to shit.

All in all, it was turning out to be a great day.

Black Star secures the mask over the lower half of his face and watches as Makoto turns, mouth lifting in a snarl. His arms drop to his sides and the Shadow Weapon falls to his feet, face down the mud. Either Makoto is stronger than her (which, Black Star guesses, might be possible) or she isn’t passed out yet. It doesn’t matter, because in a minute he’ll have the girl and Makoto will be knocked the fuck out.

“You know...” Makoto growls, voice slurred as his eyes began to droop. “...it doesn’t matter...what you do...yer nothin’ now...”

His eyes roll back into his head as the gas finally kicks all the way in, and Black Star is only too happy to watch the stupid asshole fall onto his face.

The fighting is quieter now, almost muffled, and he assumes they’re moving into a different part of the village. Good, he grins, cracking his knuckles as he moves toward the Shadow Weapon, that makes this all that much easier.

The gas has already cleared--it was quick working and dissipated quickly too--so he removes his mask, tossing it behind him. He probably won’t need it again--

“FUCK!” He shouts, backing away from the Shadow Weapon and falling neatly on his ass. His side smarts as he clutches at the kunai embedded between his ribs--not deep enough to do any real damage, but it fucking hurts. Why the fuck does a weapon carry more weapons? And how the fuck is she not passed out?

He grits his teeth as he leans forward, grabbing roughly at her hair and tugging her head up out of the dirt. Her eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot and her teeth are muddy and bloody too, but she’s smirking at him despite all the pain she’s probably in.

It won’t happen again, but he’s kind of impressed. “You know what, sweetcheeks?”

“Don’t call me that, you murderous piece--”

His grip tightens and she can’t hide the wince she makes, “You can make this easy, or you can make it hard, but remember that where we’re going, they won’t put up with this bullshit.”

“I don’t care,” The Shadow Weapon growls as he lifts her up, holding her so she's standing right in front of him. His side aches, but it’s nothing he can’t--won’t--handle.

Black Star’s grin must be menacing, because the girl shrinks back. “You really should,” he whispers, leaning close to her face, before pinching the nerve at the back of her neck, rendering her unconscious.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It didn’t stop raining until morning the next day, and by then he is exhausted. His shoulder aches from carrying the Shadow Weapon, and he doesn’t have enough energy to cast the binding spell on her, so he continues to carry her. He had to double back several times to make sure he wasn’t being trailed, and the only good thing about the rain is that it washed away the blood they left everywhere. His own side is numb and as he carries her; he can feel the way the Shadow Weapon isn’t breathing right. He doesn’t think she has a broken rib, but it isn’t good.

They are a fucking mess, and by the time he decides they are far enough away that he feels safe to rest, the Shadow Weapon is waking back up.

She comes to quickly, although he’s pretty much come to expect that by now. Her eyes snap open almost immediately after he drops her at the base of the tree, but she doesn’t say anything, just looks around them wearily, hand pressed against her ribs. He’d stopped briefly a few hours ago when she’d gotten him with a senbon needle through the thumb, and ridden her of any and all weapons. He watches the realization in her face as she discreetly checks for another kunai or needle, and then the mortification as she realizes the dagger in her shirt is gone.

He had been very thorough.

The wound in his side has stopped bleeding, but he wraps it regardless, just to keep pressure on it. Most of his injuries, few as they are, had been patched up hours before, but now that he looks at her, she could probably use a doctor.

“Listen, Shadow Weapon,” he says, giving her the same look his mom gave him when she was angry or trying to be stern. “You need to stop being a feisty bitch.”

She grunts, but doesn’t hit him, which he counts as a win.

With a sigh, he drops to his knees and reaches into his pack for the rest of the gauze. Only a little bit is left, but they would make do with her scarf or something if they run out of gauze. He didn’t need her dying on him or getting a fucking infection, because not only would that be shitty for the Clan, but it’d also put a price on his head.

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey too, and watches her watch him. “I’m gonna clean you up, alright?” He says, if only to fill the silence. The day is still overcast and the forest around them is damp, but the tree above them had kept the ground relatively dry, which he was thankful for. Maybe if she was a good girl he’d splurge on getting a room for them. “Don’t bite me.”

Her eyes narrow at him like she’s offended or something when she’d been stabbing him with stuff for like the past day. Still, despite her wary look she allows him to lean forward and clean her up.

They sit in silence while he cleans and wraps the wounds Makoto inflicted on her. The idiot had really done a bang up job on kicking her ass, but he’d seen the way Makoto limped and how he looked worse for wear so at least she could say she got a few hits in. Not that it mattered. Still, he wondered what would happen when Makoto--Green Star, he really must start thinking of his cousin as his codename, jeez--got home. Would he be banished for not only in completing the mission, but also for being bested by a girl and an outlaw? Or would his dad just kill him on the spot? Or, if his dad was in a good mood, would he let Makoto stay and take him off active duty, give him the shitty jobs for a few years? A guy could hope. Either way, the prick would have it out for both Black Star and the Shadow Weapon, which was some bullshit that he did not fuckin’ need.

The Shadow Weapon grunts as he wraps the bandages around her arm tightly and with a sigh he loosens them. He should probably be more careful with her until they get back to the compound. At least her breathing had begun to even back out into something slightly normal and he is grateful for that. He wants to give her to his father in prime condition.

“So you’re Star Clan?” She asks after he’s finished, leaning back against the tree and painstakingly pulling her knees to her chest. Black Star scans their surroundings quickly--the forest is quiet and serene around them, only a bit of light leaking through the heavy treetops, before he turns his attention back to her. She looks wary, her own eyes darting around, landing on him every few moments.

He should really cast that binding spell. Sleep tugs at him and his own side barely hurts anymore (Katsuya’s voice in his head shrieks, that is not good, you idiot) and he knows he’ll need to get some rest if he’s going to make it to the compound by the end of the week. But he doesn’t have it in him to work that gross spell and bind her yet.

She blinks at him steadily for a few moments before he remembers she asked a question. “Uh, yeah.” He shows her his shoulder with his star tattoo--the one with the slash through it, courtesy of his father--and watches the way she takes it all in. She must know what the slash means because she smirks to herself, then spits.

Literally. Fucking. Spits.

It is warm and pink and if it were anyone else, he’d fucking punch this chick right in her stupid smug fucking face. But he’s not that much of an asshole so instead, he whips around and shoves a hand deep into his bag for the spell, pulling the old and weathered paper out before she can do so much as blink. By the time she finally realizes that he’s up to something, she can’t move as he plants a foot against her chest, pushing her into the tree.

The spell is a special one, made by a witch for bounty hunters like himself. It’s low grade and any witch he might potentially cast it on (not that he would, ever, because ew, witches) could break it. But weapons and meisters and humans are all susceptible to it, and it only takes a few words and a drop of both their blood, which he happily supplies, before the spell settles in.

Almost immediately her wrists glow red-hot as the image of chains appear on her skin. He watches her wince and cry out and feels a tug in his stomach that lets him know it’s working. And he can’t wait until it actually activates.

Seconds later, the glow settles and her skin is back to it’s pasty-ass colour, only a faint trace of chains tattooed onto her skin.

“What was that?” The Shadow Weapon demands, eyes flashing and lips parting as she snarls at him. Black Star lets out a yawn at the dramatics and shifts so he too is pressed against the tree. His legs extend out in front of him and the relief he feels is almost instant.

“You’ll see, I’m sure,” Black Star yawns again, smothering it with his hand. First things first, when he wakes up, he needs some food. A truckload of food. Maybe a boatload. He’s not picky. “Now shut yer fuckin’ trap and get some sleep, because I’m not carrying you again.”

She lets loose a frustrated sigh, something almost high pitched, and Black Star shuts his eyes, happily ignoring her complaining.

* * *

 

Black Star wakes all at once, eyes snapping open into the dimness of the forest. In his mind, he sees teeth too sharp and a woman crying blood and then it’s gone and there is a sharp tug in his stomach that is telling him something is wrong.

He looks to his right where the Shadow Weapon should be, but all that is there is a screw you carved into the tree and all his shit is gone. Cheeky bitch. His wrists begin to burn.

His back and ass are sore as he stands and he stretches out, growing more and more uncomfortable as the tugging in his gut grows stronger. He scratches angrily at his arm. “Holy fuck,” he says to himself, grabbing what she didn’t and starting off in the direction he knows she’s gone in, “she is per-sistent.”

The witch’s spell is supposed to incapacitate a captive if they try and run away. It binds the caster to the captive so they know where the captive is, but not only does it let the caster know how to find the captive, it also shocks the captive to the point where they can’t move. Or it’s supposed to, at least. The witch hadn’t been all that detailed but hey, he got the jist of it.

When he finds the Shadow Weapon, who’s gone farther than he thought she could with the pain and whatnot, he’s not surprised to see her curled up in a ball, eyes wide and mouth gaping as her wrists burn red. The chains have appeared up her arms and beneath her t-shirt, covering almost all visible skin, but as he gets closer the pains seems to stop and the chains slowly disappear back into her skin.

He squats down beside her, peering into her watering eyes. “See? Now you know better, don’t you?”

“Bite me,” the Shadow Weapon snaps shakily, pushing herself slowly to her knees. Her face is only inches from his for a moment and he nearly leans forward and bites at the tip of her nose, only he feels that they aren’t quite there yet. Whatever, it’ll come.

As they both get to their feet, he watches her sway slightly before readjusting, tugging her shorts lower over her thighs and tugging her socks up. Her shirt is askew and he can see a bit of her blue bra, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Are you gonna behave now, you idiot?”

The look she gives him makes him uneasy and...and makes him feel slimy and that’s shitty so he ignores her and starts forward, glad she’s at least tried to escape in the direction they needed to go. A few steps later he hears her follow.

While he walks, Black Star tries to imagine what it will be like when he gets home. He wonders if his dad will be proud of him, if his mom will cry when she sees him, if Aunt Minako and Uncle Kenji will throw him a huge banger that lets the whole neighbouring town know that he’s back home. From what he knows, things haven’t changed much. Mika has gotten meaner, Daichi is his father’s real second in command, which apparently pisses Uncle Jiro off, and Katsuya is trying to get pregnant.

He’s almost nervous to go home. Chika’s made it seem like they’ll welcome him home with open arms when he brings them the Shadow Weapon but what if they don’t? It’s not like I killed someone...

“Watch where you’re walking,” the Shadow Weapon snaps when he nearly steps on a trap meant for deer. He stills with his foot held aloft and glances down at the hidden trap, annoyed with himself that he almost stepped on it, and annoyed with her for noticing it before him.

“Shut up. Watch yourself.” Black Star snaps over his shoulder, stepping over the trap and marching on. She catches up easily now and when he glares at her out of the corner of his eye, she looks smug.

They walk a bit more in silence and he can feel fatigue setting in again. He’s crazy exhausted and he really needs food and a bed to sleep on. He can just see the end of the treeline when she speaks up again, voice quiet and light. “So what are you going to do with me?”

He runs a hand through his already tangled hair and sighs, trying to walk faster. She matches his pace. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Or eat my soul, right? Because that is what you freaks do--”

She flinches away when he spins on her, lips curled in a snarl and finger pointed at her chest. “We’re not soul eaters, you stupid fucking bitch, and if I hear you say it again--or if they hear you say it again, you’ll die, you hear me?”

But the Shadow Weapon doesn’t back off--in fact, she steps closer--and gets into his face. His finger is pressed between her cleavage, but he doesn’t find any pleasure in that. In fact, he’s almost...shocked to see the power in her eyes and he can taste how strong she is. The thought sends thrills down his spine and he really wants to spar with her when she’s at her best--when they both are. He’s sure it’d be fun.

“If you think you can talk to me like that, you’re wrong.” She snaps in his face and he catches some of her spittle on his lips. He hadn’t realized before, but she’s taller than him. “And if you think you could even attempt to kill me, then you don’t know who you’re dealing with.” Her voice is merely a hiss by the end of it, and Black Star is pretty fuckin’ ashamed to say he’s turned on a bit by this.

Gods dammit. If she weren’t your mission, Black Star thinks savagely, she’d be putty in your hands. She’d ache for you.

The Shadow Weapon catches her breath and steps away, seeming to remember herself. She tries to smooth down wayward pieces of hair, but it’s no use. They stand at the edge of the forest in silence, only the setting sun keeping them company. It’s almost completely silent, not even a bird chirping when she says, “My friends will find me, and when they do, I’m going to kill you myself.”

Her jaw is set when she raises her eyes to his, and Black Star holds out his arms, baring his chest to her.

“I welcome the challenge, Shadow Weapon.”

* * *

 

The village they find is small and filled with pubs, inns, and a small marketplace. He’s been in the village before on a different job and it’s not the best town. In fact, it’s probably one of the worst he’s been in. But it’s midday and the marketplace is bustling. They watch from the shadow of an alley for anyone who might be suspicious but they don’t see anyone beyond a pervy old guy offering to carry everyone’s groceries. The Shadow Weapon snickers behind him when a young woman smacks the guy for touching her ass and Black Star himself holds back a smile.

“Alright,” he says, turning to her. “We’re getting food and then a room. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t help anyone.”

The Shadow Weapon looks unimpressed, but doesn’t say anything else. He’s glad for that; the entire walk here she’d talked his ear off about her friends and how awesome Shibusen is, like he actually gives a fuck. Only meisters and weapons go to Shibusen, and to someone who isn’t either of those, it’s not that impressive. She kept repeating her name too, Tsubaki, like she thinks he’s going to kill her.

If only she really knew what they were planning. (A renegade part of his mind asks, do you?)

He steps around a small family gathering at a fruit stand and makes his way to one of the small restaurants. The smell of meat makes his mouth water and he’s not interested in the fruit right now. The last time he ate was what...a day ago? Maybe two? He doesn’t remember and supposes it doesn’t really matter. His stomach is trying to eat itself, it seems, and he’d much rather it didn’t. Besides, the Shadow Weapon might be friendlier if he feeds her.

She’s only a few steps behind so he starts to order as soon as he gets there, interrupting the cook mid-conversation with another patron. The patron looks over and Black Star nearly expects a fight from the long-haired hippie, but the kid on the stool next to him distracts him from saying anything. Whatever.

He orders his and the Shadow Weapon’s food relatively quickly and then turns to her, nodding at the other stands. “Did you want anything else?”

She’s looking at him funny and shakes her head, murmuring, “What you’ve ordered is enough.” With a sigh, he slides onto one of the free stools, watching as she does the same, putting herself on the end and leaving a space between him and the other man.

He looks her over, realizing how dirty she is--how dirty they both are, actually. Holy crap, they should probably shower or something--and more than that he can see how her right eye is bloodshot and the bandage on her arm is bloody and gross. She also looks kind of shaky, but hopefully it’s just hunger.

Absently, he scratches his arm through the long sleeved shirt he’s wearing, wondering what she’d look like all cleaned up. Probably pretty cute, but if not she’s got a body that would make up for it in spades. Shit, he could probably bounce a--

“You look uncomfortable,” the Shadow Weapon murmurs under her breath, watching him in her peripherals. He stares back and shrugs, turning away to watch the cook make their food. His face feels hot and that’s lame as hell.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t care if you’re fine,” she laughs and for a second, Black Star almost forgets she’s his captive. In a lower voice, because the man beside him has looked over, she says, “If you want us to blend in, try and look like you’re not asking for a fight. You look tense, like you don’t belong here.”

He scowls at her, offended. There is no way in hell that he looks more uncomfortable than her, and who the hell would care if he looked uncomfortable? He could take anyone who tried to fight him. Shit, he could flash his tattoo and they’d run screaming. Star Clan might not have an awesome reputation when it came to trusting them, but trust him that the Star Clan could terrify the piss out of anyone.

Before he can retort, their meals are placed before them. He doesn’t waste any time with a thanks or worrying more about what she thinks, instead digging in. The food  seems to melt in his mouth and Black Star almost forgets to swallow, he’s so hungry. Twice he nearly chokes on the hot soup, while the Shadow Weapon manages to eat all of hers quicker and cleaner than him.

She nearly grabs his second bowl of soup before he reaches out and smacks her hand away. Dejection crosses over her face for a moment before annoyance. He almost thinks she’ll grab it again but then she says, in a high voice that sets his nerves on fire, “Sweetie, don’t be rude! Share with me!” Punctuated with a laugh.

His eyes widen momentarily, and behind him he hears snickers from the cook and hippie. Is she serious? Is she really willing to do this right now? Because two can play at that game. And he will absolutely win.

His laugh is slightly forced but it comes out well enough and he reaches for the bowl, messily tossing some of the soup into her empty one. Quite a bit of it sloshes over the rim, landing on her skirt and the table.

“Oh!” She gasps, reaching down to cover the wet stain with her hands, but his beat her there with his napkin, pressing down on her thigh, squeezing tightly. “Sorry, babe. You know how clumsy I can be.”

Her eyes are especially stormy when she looks at him, but the smile she wears is bright and cheery. Nails dig into the top of his hand and the pain is worse because they’re ragged from the fight earlier. “Hurry and eat up.” He hopes the pain isn’t visible on his face or noticeable in his voice. “We have to check into the inn soon.”

With a final smirk he turns back to his own food, frowning at the severe lack of soup in his bowl. Stupid Shadow Weapon. Beside him, the hippie turns to face him. The dude looks a little familiar, a little like someone he used to know, but he can’t quite place a name or where he’s seen him, so all Black Star says is, “Women, am I right?”

A small head pops out from beside the hippie, a huge scowl on her face. “Ex-cuse you!” She snaps and she can’t be more than ten or twelve years old but the feeling he gets when he meets her eyes is almost...dark? He feels like he has the jitters, like he’s gonna jump outta his skin but it could just be the exhaustion catching up to him, or not having enough food. Either way, he averts his gaze back to the hippie dude, smirking.

“She yours?”

“He’s mine,” the kid shouts, slinging an arm through the hippie’s. Something clacks against the chair and he realizes that the guy has a sword.

Huh. We should probably get outta here, Black Star thinks to himself, reaching behind him to grab the Shadow Weapon, only to find thin air. What the shit, man? She couldn’t have gone far, he would have felt it. Turning, he sees that her stool is empty and the bowl of soup he’d given her is gone too.

“Really?” Black Star asks to no one in particular, pressing his hands against his eyes. Where did the idiot think she’d go from here? He’s sure she’s never been around these parts before and  she definitely knows what happens when she gets too far away. He grits his teeth when the hippie (actually, do hippies even carry swords?--Black Star is pretty sure they’re pacifists) laughs at him. If this were any other time, he’d probably turn around and tell the guy to fuck off. As it is, he’s got bigger fish to fry.

Tossing some money on the counter, Black Star grabs his bag and sets off in the direction he’s sure she went. You’re doing this for the Clan, he tells himself bitterly as he turns a few corners, hearing the light sound of her voice. By the time he actually finds her, he can’t pull her away and to the inn the way he’d originally planned because she’s feeding the fuckin’ needy.

“I swear,” Black Star mutters, coming up beside her as she squats in front of a boy who can’t be more than eight. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth. How did you find this thing?”

The ‘thing’ looks up at him with sad little eyes and he has to look away because shit if that’s not the saddest thing he’s ever seen. The Shadow Weapon frowns up at him, then looks back at the boy, grabbing the bowl when he finished. “I saw him getting in trouble near one of the fruit stands. He looked hungry, so I followed him. I would have been quicker if I wasn’t all...” here, she sounds begrudging, “beat up.”

He’s not smug, he’s too tired for that, but it’s a close thing. “I’m sure he’s fine now. Now lets go, I wanna get some shut eye before we leave again tonight.”

Her jaw clenches but she stands anyway, pushing to her feet with a quiet sigh. It’s almost...motherly, how she clenches her hand around the young boy’s shoulder, and he has to look away. Any public displays of affection are gross enough without someone else watching it.

Soon it’s just them in the alley, him with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders up around his ears, while she stands with her arms hanging limp at her sides, face drawn. They probably look like losers, but he’s too exhausted to care. “Come on,” he says, pressing a hand lightly against her spine. “The inn’s this way.”

The walk is quick and silent, which he’s thankful for. The last thing he needs right now is her running off or asking a thousand questions, because he doesn’t have the mental capacity to handle it right now. They pass by the food stand again, but the hippie-swordsman and his brat are gone. His hand moves to his arm almost absently, rubbing at the skin beneath his shirt. He’d seen the guy before--or he recognized him, at least--but he can't place where he had seen him or how he knows him. The guy was strange and that kid stranger.

It was probably just the lack of sleep talking.

The inn is quiet when they get there--probably because it’s noon and a weekday--and he thanks whatever gods are out there for it. Although a packed inn would help them blend in better, a quiet one is far nicer. At least he doesn’t have to worry about people in neighbouring rooms being loud assholes while he’s trying to sleep. Plus they get good rooms.

A little old lady sits inside at a desk, a small fan keeping her cool, despite the chilliness of the wind. He remembers when Minako went through some...“change of life,” his mom had called it, where his aunt was always hot, even in the dead of winter. Considering the wind outside isn’t the warmest, he figures the innkeeper-lady is going through the same thing.

The Shadow Weapon beats him to the desk, hands clasped behind her back and a smile lighting up her face. She’s a pretty good actress, all things considered. “Hello,” she greets, tilting her head at the woman. “My companion and I would like a room, please.”

Her response is whip-fast and rude as hell. He catches most of it, but he’s been speaking English for a while now so some of it’s lost. He gets the gist, however, as she tells the Shadow Weapon that “they don’t condone that shit here.”

He busts out laughing when the Shadow Weapon’s face turns beet red, back going ramrod straight. She seems like the innocent type. Spinning around, she gives him a dirty look, while the innkeeper scowls at the two of them, tapping her pointed nails against the table.

“I--,” she turns back to the woman, hands on the desk, “it’s not like that. He’s my, um, my friend. We’ve been traveling and would like somewhere to sleep.” He’s a little stunned at the near flawless Japanese that comes out, almost a little turned on because damn it sounds sexy coming out of her mouth, but the lady still doesn’t seem impressed, so he makes an executive decision and pulls off his shirt. The tank top he’s got on beneath is black, but it’s not what draws her attention.

The woman’s eyes snap to his arm before back down and she reaches beneath the desk. For a moment, he wonders if she’s pressing an alarm or grabbing a weapon, but all she does is toss a key toward the Shadow Weapon, muttering Japanese obscenities under her breath.

When the Shadow Weapon turns back to look at him, he’s got his shirt pulled back on. Her brows are furrowed, but he ignores and he grabs the keys from her hand, leading the way towards the stairs.

* * *

 

The room they get is pretty mediocre, which is not much of an issue, but the solitary bed is. A queen bed would have been nice, but the two of them would not fit comfortably on a double bed and it was probably the innkeeper's subtle way of telling him to go and fuck himself. He groans when he realizes that the bathroom is small as hell too.

“I’m showering first.” The Shadow Weapon beats him to the punch, already starting toward the bathroom. He reaches out to grab her wrist, but she evades him quickly, slipping through the doorway and sliding it shut. It locks with a small click.

“You win this one, Shadow Weapon,” he mutters, walking toward the bed. He drops his bag on the ground, wincing when some of his spare kunai clang together. It’s been such a long day, all he wants to do is curl up in bed and die, but that isn’t an option. This is a job he’s not going to fuck up, something he won’t screw around with. They need to stay ahead of Makoto and he needs to bring her back to the compound without incident. He needs his spot back in the Clan. He needs to be home.

Dropping onto the bed, he reaches for his bag and draws it closer, pulling open the ties. He’s got a few changes of clothes in there--most of his belongings, really, are in this bag; he’s been living out of it for the last few years--some weapons, a few maps, a bit of money. Nothing of sentimental value, but he’s not a real sentimental guy.

It has not occurred to him that the Shadow Weapon doesn’t have any other clothes. While the idea of her walking around naked is a nice one, it’s not a real beneficial one.

He shuffles some of his stuff around, looking for a shirt that would be big enough for her boobs to fit in that won't also be distracting, but he doesn’t know if he has pants that will fit her. She looks like she might have a bigger butt than him. Still, he grabs a pair of shorts that were always a little loose and tosses them on the floor outside the bathroom, and then drops back onto the bed, shutting his eyes.

He must have drifted off for a few minutes, because the next thing he knows, the Shadow Weapon is tossing a towel at him, hitting him square in the face.

“What the fuck?” He grumbles, grabbing it and pushing off the bed. She’s wearing his clothing--at least she’s not being a stubborn asshole--and she looks cleaner. He can see a few cuts along her cheeks and forehead, but with all the dirt washed off, she’s actually pretty...

“Stop looking at me,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. She scowls at him, he smirks back.

“Nice shirt,” he calls as he stands up, shoving past her and into the bathroom. Before the door closes, he catches how her face twists up as she reads his shirt.

“Female Body Inspector?” She shouts through the door. “You’re so original.”

* * *

 

Once, a long time ago, Black Star could only fall asleep to the sound of his mother’s voice. Since he was young, he’d listened to her every night when she tucked him into bed and whisper songs into his hair, or tell him stories about the original Black Star, breath warm against his cheek. She always made sure he was asleep before she went back to her own futon.

(Black Star missed his mom the most, sometimes.)

When he turned twelve and Naomi told him it was stupid for his mom to sing him to sleep, he stopped letting her and started training himself to sleep without her calming presence. It had been difficult at first--he was so used to her, so used to falling asleep, feeling safe--but he managed eventually.

Since he was banished, however, he had found it harder to fall asleep. Chika told him it was normal when she’d first snuck out of the compound to meet up with him. He’d just gone through a horrible ordeal and lost everything he’d ever had, but things had gotten better after that, too. He stopped thinking too much before falling asleep, just focused on what tomorrow would bring.

So it really isn’t a surprise that he can’t sleep once he’s showered. Both he and the Shadow Weapon lie in the bed facing away from each other, pillows dampening from their wet hair. The room feels too cold, but every time he moves closer to her, he feels too hot.

It’s really fucking irritating, to be entirely honest.

Shifting angrily onto his back, he accidentally knocks his elbow against hers. “Sorry,” he grunts when she shifts, glaring at him over her shoulder. He thinks she’ll turn back over and fall back asleep, but she shifts so she’s lying on her back, too.

“What’s your name?” She asks into the semi-darkness. Her hair pools around her head like ink and stray strands stick to her neck like tattoos. “You never told me.”

Black Star shrugs, watching her closely. What’s she trying to do? “I know, and I never asked what yours was, either.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t care,” he mutters, shifting so he can stare at the ceiling, try to see what she does.

“I think you do.” She whispers, almost like she's trying not to break the silence that’s settled tensely between them. He grits his teeth when she turns to look at him, but doesn’t look back. “My name is Tsubaki.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says slowly, hoping she understands. When she gets to the compound, all she’ll be is the Shadow Weapon.

He can feel her breath on his shoulder and if she’s trying to get a rise out of him, she’s doing an excellent job of it. His jaw begins to ache from grinding his teeth and he lifts a hand to rub at his arm.

“Of course it matters.” She sounds so sure, so earnest and he just--he needs her to shut up and let him sleep. She needs to shut her ass up and sleep. “What happened to your arm? Is that why you won’t tell me your name?”

He moves before he fully realizes what he’s doing. One second he’s staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore her and the next he’s hovering over her, one hand pressed to her throat. He snarls at her, teeth snapping as he hisses, “You don’t know anything, so shut up.”

Shock filters across her face briefly before a smirk settles onto her lips. “Sure I do. You’re the one who was kicked out, right? They talked about it at Shibusen and it was all Father could talk about when I went home for the summer. Your name is Black Star, named after the previous clan leader, and your father White Star is the current leader--”

He presses harder on her throat, cutting her words off before she can spit any more out. He wants to shout, to throw things, to break her but she’s...she knows what she’s talking about and she knows who he is which means...

Which means she’s known this entire time what he was planning to do.

“Do you think...that they’ll let you back in?” She chokes out. Despite his hand around her throat, she isn’t fighting him. Her hands lay carefully at her sides, fingers nudging his knees every so often. It’s almost unnerving how she’s so calm about all of this. “Do you really wanna...be back with...them?”

Of course, he thinks savagely, but he can’t push the words past his lips. Of course he wants to be home, of course he wants to be a part of the clan again. He wouldn’t be going through all of this if he didn’t. Only it’s more than that--he wants to prove that he can get the job done. All he’s ever wanted to do was prove himself and to make--to live up to his namesake and now she’s just--

At some point, his grip loosens against her throat. She sucks in a greedy breath, chest heaving beneath him. “I don’t think you’re like them, so why are you trying so hard?”

Why, Black Star repeats the word in his head, staring down at the Shadow Weapon--Tsubaki. And that’s the real question, isn’t it?

He sits back, and crawls off of her, grabbing his pillow and tossing it to the ground. “Go the fuck to sleep, alright?” He snaps, settling down on the ground. It’s not the most comfortable sleep he’ll ever get, but it’s better than sleeping on that bed with her.

She doesn’t say anything, but he hears the way she exhales and for some stupid reason, it makes his throat tighten.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Names are a funny thing.

For instance, Black Star is named after his dead uncle, the last leader of the Star Clan. He didn’t get more than that, not like everyone else in his family, and he used to wonder why. It didn't ever bug him or weigh on him, but it was always something he thought about in the back of his mind.

Now that the Shadow Weapon has called him out on not asking her name or giving his, he can’t stop thinking about her name. A camelia flower? Did her parents hate her? At least name her after a cooler or prettier flower.

It also brings back all the stupid lessons Uncle Kenji had taught him and the others growing up. Don’t name things you know you will give up. It makes it harder once it is gone.

Is that what she’s trying to do? He knows that in hostage situations the hostage is supposed to remind their captor what their name is, that they have a family and a life, but if that is where she’s trying to go with this, it’s not going to work. She already caught him off guard once, it won’t happen again.

Yet she continues to blather on about her life in minute detail.

“...and it was actually a cat’s soul, not really a witch’s! So they lost all 99 souls they’d collected and had to start over again. Of course, they managed to get them all back and then some and he’s technically a Death Scythe now despite the fact that Maka’s the only one who really uses him.”

Black Star pulls an arm behind his back and starts another set of push-ups, grunting as sweat slips into his eyes. Tsu--the Shadow Weapon, fuck--sits on the bed cross-legged, a bored look on her face. They’d both slept a solid fifteen hours, but he wasn’t refreshed so much as sluggish and bored and annoyed because not only had he slept way longer than he’d wanted to, but he’d woke up all cuddled up with the chick.

His gut still hurt from the punch she delivered when she woke up to find him pressed against her tits.

Scowling at the floor he does another push-up. He can’t wait until they get back to the compound. It’s big enough that, if he tries hard enough, he won’t have to see her ever.

“Why are you working out in a long sleeved shirt?” She asks after several minutes of near silence. He stops his sit-ups briefly to look at her. She’s stretched out along the bed, hair falling in a silky wave over her shoulder. He still thinks it’s hella cool that she uses her hair as a weapon and wonders idly why her arm doesn’t turn into the chain scythe like it probably should. Would her hair still do it if she cut it all off? Or does she get to chose how it comes out? He remembers being a kid and learning about weapons and meisters--his mom was technically a meister although she claimed to never have actually used a weapon in battle--and had wanted so badly to be a meister himself. Actually, he remembers wanting to be a weapon because how fuckng cool is that?

When Tsubaki clears her throat loudly, Black Star blinks back to reality. “Because I can. Why, wanna see the goods?” He leers at her long enough that she actually scoffs and rolls onto her back, resting her hands over her stomach. He watches the rise and fall of her belly as she breathes and finds himself counting the breaths absently.

“You always rub your arm, too,” she murmurs, twisting a piece of her hair. She turns to look at him, a glint in her eyes and he--goddammit, he really hates her. Also, no he absolutely does not.

“Nope,” he shakes his head, pushing to his feet and moving toward the bathroom. The ledge over the door is wide enough for his fingers to grip and he begins some pull-ups, ignoring the creaking. “I do not.”

Her eyes widen and she sits up abruptly. “You’ve done it at least four times today!”

Has he? Even if he has, why is she looking? Why is she paying attention? She should stop being so nosy--shit--

The ledge above the bathroom door snaps, sending his distracted ass to the ground in a heap of broken wood. “What the fuck?”

“You’re too heavy for it, idiot,” Tsubaki mutters, passing a hand over her face. “Now, back to the actual question--”

“That was more like an observation.” He gets to his feet slowly, cracking his back a bit and kicking the broken wood to the corner. “And I don’t have to answer anything. You’re my prisoner-thing.”

The look on her face tells him that was definitely the wrong thing to say. Not that he cares. He is so serious when he says he’s the one in charge here. He is the boss, not to mention a boss and she needs to recognize that.

He expects her to huff and sit down and not talk to him. He does not expect her to leap forward and punch him in the jaw.

He stumbles back from the blow. If he wasn’t trained the way he is, the hit probably would have sent him to his ass. As it is, the original Red Star taught him how to fight and she was widely known as the most vicious of the Clan. He knows how to take a hit, and more than that he knows how to dole ‘em out.

“You really wanna go there?” He asks, massaging his jaw. “Because I will so go there. And I won’t take it easy on you because you’re a chick.”

The smirk on her face sets him on fire and if she says no now he’ll probably just explode. Black Star needs to fight her, needs to get all this tension off his chest and knock her down a peg, show her who is boss.

She cracks her knuckles and shrugs, “Sure. If I win, you let me go?”

“Try again,” he laughs cruelly, watching her smirk falter slightly. “You win, I tell you about my arm. I win, you shut up the rest of the trip.”

Tsubaki reaches up, sifting her fingers through her hair and tying it in a ponytail. Her eyes are bright and devious as she says, “Deal.”

* * *

 

They pay for the room and stop by the only shop in town that sells clothing before heading out of town. She needs something to wear that isn’t his and when they fight, he really doesn’t wanna ruin his own clothes. It would be a real pain and hassle.

She spends way too much on a pair of shorts and he reminds her twice that she’s not going to a damn fashion show. The lady behind the counter who keeps giving Tsubaki tips on what to get kindly reminds him that he should “appreciate a girlfriend who dresses well” to which he fucks off outside until she’s done, muttering all the while about stupid Shadow Weapons.

She comes out after way too long wearing something similar to what she’d been in when he took her. The shorts are a little longer and her socks are the same length, but she’s got the tank top and scarf right. She actually looks pretty hot, if he’s honest with himself.

“Ready?” She asks, tossing him the money she didn’t spend, which is like nothing. He pockets it anyway and starts walking.

They’re walking for close to an hour before he veers off to the right, off the path and into the trees. He’s relatively sure there is a meadow around here that they can fight in, but it could also be in the other direction. Either way, his skin is tingling for a fight and he can see that she’s getting anxious too.

By the time he finds it, he’s practically vibrating. “Okay, rules?”

“No thanks,” Tsubaki laughs, kicking out his legs. He doesn’t fall but it’s a near thing, and by the time he gets to his feet she’s half-way across the meadow, arms loose at her sides. It reminds him of Chika, how she always looks so unassuming and safe until you get close enough. That’s when she sinks her teeth in.

He doesn’t waste any time speaking. Running directly toward her, he pulls a kunai from his belt, twirling it in his hand before lashing out at her. She only just dodges, which makes him happy, and he blocks her leg from connecting to his temple using his forearm. The impact is painful but nothing he can’t handle.

Fighting up close like this is his favorite kind of fighting. It gets his blood pumping and keeps him on his toes--there isn’t any room for error when you’re this close, no chance to fix any mistakes you make. If you don’t move quick enough, you’re skewered. If you’re not good enough, you’re dead.

He bites his tongue when she uppercuts him and stumbles back, holding his bleeding mouth while she takes a moment to breathe. Her eyes are nearly black and her breathing is ragged. “What’s wrong, bite your tongue?”

Black Star spits pink at her feet and pulls out a second kunai. She’s got shallow cuts on her arms and legs, a bloody nose from his headbutt, but he’s just as bloody as she is. She is definitely not someone to fuck with and wonders briefly what she would be like if he fought her for real. He doesn’t think this is her fighting seriously--at least, not a seriously as she could be.

He catches a flash of metal behind her and for a brief moment he wonders if someone is watching them, but then she’s holding a shortsword, similar to his only nicer and the metal is so pretty that he wants to cry. It shimmers in the sunlight like it’s alive and he supposes it is.

She moves quicker now and he holds his kunai in front of his face, wincing at the noise their blades make when they clash against one another. “That’s an awesome sword.”

“Thanks,” she grunts, pushing against him before falling back a few feet, rotating her wrist. “Your kunai are nice as well.”

Barking out a laugh, Black Star casts a glance at his kunai. They’re pretty shitty in all honesty, and he’s sure she’s aware of that. “Don’t be an asshole, Tsu--ah...”

Her eyebrows furrow briefly, shock filtering across her face and he curses himself for saying her name, especially shortening it. Stupid, he thinks, watching as her face goes blank and she lunges forward, nearly slicing his throat open. You always say stupid shit.

She’s fast when she wants to be, and he knows fast. Still, she gets in a few good hits, winding him enough that she can send a firm, strong kick to the middle of his chest, knocking him onto his back.

Raising a hand, he presses against his sore ribs, feeling for anything wrong. It sure as fuck feels like she just put her entire foot through his torso and while he doesn;t really blame her, did she need to be so harsh? It was just a name, after all. It wasn’t like he called her “baby cakes” or something worse. Gods, he’ll just keep calling her “Shadow Weapon” if she wants to be a big asshole about it.

Standing above him, Tsubaki is the picture of calmness. Her hair is in disarray, blood is smeared under her nose, but her face is serene and her blade is gone. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah,” Black Star croaks, “no worries there.”

The hand she extends to him is unexpected and surprising. For a moment, he isn’t sure if he wants to actually grab it or if he wants to knock it away and get up on his own. Part of him thinks that grabbing it is like...almost like giving in. If he grabs her hand, isn’t he giving in? His father would say yes. He would say yes, two years ago. Even Chika would say yes, even Chika wouldn’t hold out her hand and help an enemy to his feet.

In his head, his father says: you are weak.

Black Star grabs her hand and something clicks into place.

For a moment, the two of them stand there holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes and he wants to know what this is, why he feels breathless. Tsubaki looks like she’s going to be sick, her skin paler than normal and her eyes wide with shock and something else he can’t understand.

Before he even gets a chance, a voice interrupts them. “Sorry, cousin, but I’ve already called dibs.”

He spins around fast enough that he gets a little light-headed. Makoto stands there, katana in hand and looking far too smug and angry than one person should. Did he really just say he called dibs on her? The idea of Makoto anywhere near her has his blood boiling for reasons he doesn’t want to think about.

Almost immediately Black Star notices something off about him, but he can’t put his finger on it.

“How did he heal so quickly?” Tsubaki breathes behind him, and Makoto grins razor blades at them and that’s it; his teeth, his eyes, his skin. He’s changed, he’s something more than human and Black Star knows what he’ll say before the vile words come out of his mouth.

“Stopped for a snack on my way here.” And Black Star doesn’t think he’s ever been so angry in his life than he is right now. Makoto was always a dumb kid, always listened and took too seriously what people said to him, but this was beyond stupid. Not only is he feeding the rumours, but he’s the proof that they’re not all just rumours.

Vibrating with anger, Black Star snaps, “You’re eating human souls, Green Star? Are you fucking stupid, or what?”

The thing across from him--because he’s not human and he’s certainly not Black Star’s cousin anymore--smirks. He leans on his katana lazily, like he’s bored with them but Black Star knows an act when he sees one. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“What?” Black Star asks before he can stop himself and he knows. He knows what Makoto will say but it isn't true. They’re not like that. He’s lying, trying to get under his skin and it won’t work. Behind him, Tsubaki is completely silent but she’s close enough that he can feel how tense she is.

Makoto--Green Star, he’s not Makoto--laughs, loud and grating and almost painful. “I should almost let you bring her back. I should let you see all that you’ve missed, but that would be a waste of time and effort. If you honestly think that White Star will let you back in because you bring him a prize like her, you’re the stupid one.”

He clenches his fists tight enough that his nails begin to dig into his skin. “You’re wrong.”

“And you’re finished,” Makoto shrugs, shifting his grip on his katana, holding it out in front of him. “I hope you’ve had a good taste of my prize. I’ll be collecting her now.”

Black Star almost snaps don’t talk about her like that, but stops himself.

Green Star moves fast but he and Tsubaki are faster. Darting to the left, Black Star grabs one of the kunai he’d dropped earlier, spinning in time to block the swing of Green Star’s katana. His arm aches from when he’d blocked her kick earlier and he can’t hold it for too long. Falling back, he looks over Green Star’s shoulder at Tsubaki. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she looked worried.

“It’s gonna feel so good to kill you, Black Star,” Green Star hisses, swinging his blade again. He can hear it move through the air and he watches as pieces of his hair fall to the ground, blue against green. “All I’ve heard the last two years was about how much better you were than me, and I’m gonna prove who is really superior.”

He swings out with the hilt of his katana, nailing Black Star in the jaw. He falls sideways a bit, keeping his footing but off balance. “Eating souls--that’s cheating, right? ‘Cuz there is no way,” Black Star laughs as he leans back into a back handspring, kicking Green’s sword away from one hand...to the other. Asshole. “--that you would be this good without it. Last I remember you were up my ass, all ‘Black, will you teach me how to beat up Naomi?’ Hey, speaking of, how is that big bitch?”

Green Star looks pissed and isn’t that great. He opens his mouth to insult him a little more and then the guy is right in front of him and shit.

Black Star doesn’t see his knee move, but he feels it connect with his groin, and all he really wants to do is fucking die. He knows he screams and falls forward, which Green Star uses to his leverage, grabbing Black Star’s hair and bringing his knee up again, railing it into his face. He still doesn’t let go as Black Star’s nose breaks and blood erupts over his face. He is literally starry-eyed right now. At least he still has his teeth.

Green Star lifts him up by his hair and Black Star takes the opportunity to bring his hand up, open-palmed, and try to shove his nose up into his fucking brain. He misses the nose, mostly because he’s seeing double and hits the dickhead under the chin, snapping his mouth shut and oh god was that the tip of his--

The scream Green Star lets out is wonky and Black Star can’t help but gag a little as a tiny pink piece of tongue falls to the grass at their feet. Green’s hand is clapped over his mouth, eyes watering and Black Star takes this chance to slip around him, running headlong toward Tsubaki who was watching him get the shit beat out of him and grabs her hand, propelling into the trees at a record speed. “We need to get the hell outta here!” He shouts over his shoulder and Tsubaki pulls up beside him, releasing his hand.

Unfortunately, his junk is still pretty sore and to his unending embarrassment and annoyance, it’s Tsubaki who reaches back and grabs his arm, pulling him along as they fly through the forest, jumping over shrubs and roots, darting between trees.

“I can’;t--believe--I made him--bite--off--his tongue!” He pants, lungs on fire. He doesn’t know if he’s ever run this far.

“You should have killed him!” Tsubaki shrieks, whipping her head around to glare at him.

“Maybe if I had some fuckin’ help,” he sneers, bloody, sweaty fingers slipping from her grasp. She adjusts her grip and she doesn’t really need to be holding his hand but...well he doesn’t want to fall too far behind. “And something bigger than a kunai!”

She slows to an abrupt stop, spinning around. He nearly runs headlong into her but manages to stop before he can face plant in those tits. She’s super out of breath and her hair is in all kinds of disarray. He lifts a hand to push it off her forehead, remembers himself, and rests it on his arm, rubbing it. “What are you doing?”

“You would kill him? Your own clansman?” She asks him, voice cold and serious. He blinks at her, shocked by the question and disturbed by the answer.

Because yes, he would kill Green Star. If he had a proper weapon, he would. The guy is eating souls and trying say that the rest of the Clan is...

He can’t risk losing this opportunity. He needs to bring the Shadow Weapon to his father.

“Yes,” he nods. Her fingers squeeze tight around his and in the distance, they can both hear Green Star coming.

“Can you fight using a chain scythe?” She looks desperate and a little scared but he can sense the steel in her voice, in the grip around his hand. She wants him to use her, she thinks he can.

“I’m not a meister,” he shakes his head, swallowing thickly. If they’re not gonna fight Green Star then they need to start running. “I can’t--”

“You felt it earlier,” she stresses, eyes darting over his shoulder. “You can do it. We’re compatible--I don’t know how or why but I felt it too.”

Gritting his teeth, Black Star nods. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

She has just enough time to shift before Black Star feels Green Star come up behind him, and he doesn’t think, just swings.

* * *

 

“How could someone just take her?” Maka sighs for the fifth time, rubbing dirty hands across her face, smearing mud and blood even thicker across her cheeks. Soul wants to sigh himself, but with Maka breaking down and Kid having an aneurysm because one of those pre-kishin cut one half of his hair and not the other, someone needs to have a straight head on them.

So instead of saying anything, he slinks along, hands shoved in his pockets. The tracking spell Kim cast was pretty weak but it was doing a mediocre job of leading them to where Tsubaki supposedly was. Maka had tried sensing her soul, but something was blocking it.

To be entirely honest, Soul isn’t sure how Tsubaki got captured either. She’s one of the most capable people on Spartoi and a weapon to boot. He actually hadn’t even thought she’d been captured when Kilik first told everyone he couldn’t find her. They all knew about her brother, how he’s the enchanted sword and a huge menace right now, but there is no way he’d have found her in Needle Village, and no way that Maka wouldn’t sense his soul.

“I did sense two souls,” she’d said earlier, worry evident on her face. “One of them was dark...like a kishin only not as gross. The other reminded me of Patti but it was larger. And now they're both gone.”

Soul knew everyone was worried. Tsubaki was important--not just to them and as a person, but as a prize. The Shadow Weapon was something a lot of people wanted hold of and Lord Death had warned them before they left that something could happen.

He tries to remember the last time he saw her in the fight but can’t. They’d all separated when they got there to deal with the pre-kishin and he’d been too focused on watching Maka’s back to make sure everyone else was getting on alright. Besides, he was used to Tsubaki being able to take care of herself. But if there were two people--or things--coming after her, then who really knew?

Maka matches his pace, watching the others fumble on ahead through the mud. “Do you think she’s alright?”

She looks so worried and small that for a second, Soul just wants to wrap her up and hold her. But now isn’t a cool time to do that and he doesn’t really think Maka would appreciate it, so he nods, because he also can’t think of Tsubaki not being ok. “Of course. Tsubaki’s probably the strongest person I know.”

The nod and smile she gives isn’t very convincing, and Soul would be a fool if he didn’t admit that he was really damn worried. The fact that Tsubaki was taken in the first place is disheartening in and of itself, but the fact that Maka can’t feel her soul is downright gut-wrenching. It’s the reason they called for reinforcements back at Shibusen.

Don’t make a liar out of me, he thinks to Tsubaki, and if he reaches out to grab Maka’s hand, it’s because he figures she could use something solid to hold on to.

* * *

 

Black Star breathes through his teeth, kneeling in the dirt at one end of a newly made clearing, while Makoto squats at the other.

He can’t see out of his left eye from a cut over it--in fact, he’s lucky he can still see at all. At some point he’d lost his long-sleeve, but he’s faring far better than Green Star, who is missing several teeth and his right eye.

In his hands, Tsubaki thrums with life, reminding him constantly that she’s there. It’s so different fighting with something that can speak to you and something that can practically read your thoughts, but he finds that he likes it. Maybe she’ll be my weapon, he thinks, tightening his hand around her hilt. She can learn to like the Clan, and if she’s my weapon, nobody can say shit to her.

Across the clearing, Green Star rises shakily to his feet. Black Star can see that his eye is different, something is odd about his pupil, and knows without a doubt that it’s in a star shape. His own eyes are likely the same right now, and he can feel power flowing through him.

“Tsubaki,” he asks, lifting his arms in a fighting stance. “What else can you show me?”

Instantly, the chain scythes in his hands form into a shuriken, big enough to decapitate someone with. He wonders if she can sense what he’s about to do.

Green Star is shaky, head cocked to one side and mouth pulled wide in a grin. Black Star is pretty sure the injuries he’s sustained have no effect on him. It’s all the demon.

“Can you tell me something?” Black Star asks. Above them, the sky has darkened considerably from it’s earlier sunniness. It’s almost fitting, he thinks absently.

Green Star’s voice comes out distorted, almost animalistic. He’s also lisping a bit and any other time, Black Star might find that funny. “What?”

“Why eat human souls?”

He braces himself for some big explanation. Braces himself for some sort of “because I was never as good as you,” or something equally emotional. There has to be something pushing him to do this, because who in their right mind would want to eat a human soul?

But all Green Star says is, “because why not?”

Black Star asks anyone who is listening, please forgive me, and throws Tsubaki across the clearing, right toward Green Star.

She thuds into a tree loud enough to drown out Green Star’s laughter, and the tree sways in the strong breeze. “You idiot, as if I wouldn’t see that one coming--ack!”

Green Star’s eyes are wide with shock, alarm, and pain as he slams his fist into his chest. He can feel skin and bone give way beneath his palm, and light brightens around his fingertips for a moment, and then his hand is buried inside his cousin’s chest, blood the colour of tar bubbling around his hand.

He is vaguely aware that he is grinning.

“You...you beat me,” and it’s Makoto who says this, whose hand rises limply to grab at Black Star’s forearm.

“Yeah,” he nods, feeling light headed and sick. “Sorry, ‘cuz.”

He rips his hand out of Makoto’s chest with a wet sound and watches the boy sway on his feet before falling to his knees, and then finally, to the ground. As he falls, Black Star watches Tsubaki watch him.

He tears his gaze away from hers--there’s too much emotion in her eyes--and looks at his cousin. He just killed his cousin. He killed his family and didn’t think twice about it, just shoved a hand through his chest and grinned and what--what’s the matter with him? Who could do something so...so...

He stumbles as he tries to step over Makoto’s body and hits the ground hard, knees taking most of the impact. Tsubaki hasn’t moved from where she’s standing.

Pressing his face against the dirt, Black Star breathes in shakily. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to bring her to the compound and rub it in Makoto’s face, not kill him.

Black Star doesn’t notice Tsubaki drop to the ground beside him, but he feels her hand on his shoulder. “He would have killed you. It was you or it was him, and... I’m glad it had to be him.”

The sky opens up then, water pounding against the grass, and all around him, Black Star sees green.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some sexual themes in it.

“I won our fight earlier today,” is the first thing Tsubaki says in five hours.

She had given him thirty minutes to pull himself together before telling him to get up. The rain hadn’t stopped, and Makoto hadn’t stopped being dead, so Black Star figured he should stop being an idiot. People died all the time, and Tsubaki was right. It was him or Makoto, and he wasn’t going to be the one who died.

They had left his body there--neither had a shovel to bury a hole or the strength to bring him with them--and headed back into the trees. He didn’t know which direction he was going in, only knew that he needed to be as far away from Makoto’s body as possible.

She was the one who stumbled upon the small cabin in the woods. It looked run down and inside there were puddles where the roof leaked, but there was a small cot and moth-bitten blankets, as well as a fire place. He had worked on starting a small fire while she checked for other supplies.

Tsubaki had cleaned the cuts on his face as best she could, and while his left eye hurt a bit to open, he could still see fine out of it. The worst part had been setting his nose, really.

Now here they were, sitting around a small fire and eating a bag of stale chips she had found in the cupboard.

Black Star glances at her and finds that she is watching him. “And you can clearly see my arm. There is your answer.”

“You said you would tell me about your arm, not show me.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Black Star sighs. Do they really need to do this right now? Is it absolutely necessary? She’s being difficult and stupid and should really just let the silence reign. They were doing so well before.

She continues to stare at him. It’s unnerving enough that he eventually blurts out, “He cut the tattoo in half when he sent me away.”

It itches, sometimes. He’s never left it alone long enough to heal entirely, and when it’s out in the open it looks rougher than it probably would if he’d just stopped itching it and rubbing it. It’s tough not to, though. It’s the only evidence he has that he’s been...well, banished. He used to pretend like he was on a really long mission and that when he went home, his mom would be there waiting and his dad would be proud of him. In a perfect world, that’s how it would have worked out.

Black Star is very aware that this is not a perfect world.

“He did that so you wouldn’t forget.” It isn’t a question. Tsubaki seems to know a lot more than he would think.

“And so everyone else wouldn’t either,” Black Star laughs, but it’s without any humour. This is why, he wants to tell her. This is why I’m doing this.

When he looks at her, shadows are dancing across her skin. Her eyes are impossibly blue. like a clear night sky, and he can see that she knows what he’s thinking. She knows what he’s doing and why. He doesn’t know if he’s glad or not.

Turning back to the fire, Black Star lets the heat soak into his bones. “So today...letting me use you was really awesome. Like, I felt super powerful.”

He catches movement in his peripherals and glances over, but all she’s done is braced her chin on her knees. Her face is hard to read in the low light, so he doesn’t know how to feel when she says, “I did too.”

“I didn’t even think I was a meister. I mean, my mom kind of is? But not really so I didn’t think I would get the chance--”

“We’re not doing it again,” Tsubaki snaps in a voice that clearly states: stop talking. Well what the fuck, did she not like it? Was it not good for her? Because it was great for him and if she wanted to he would do it again. Right now.

Instead of saying any of that, he whines, “Why not?”

He doesn’t know how to explain it, but he’s pretty sure she liked having a meister as much as he liked being one. It was exhilarating and new for both of them. He’d felt it through...through their souls, or something. The fact that she’s saying they can’t do it again sucks big time. Maybe she’ll come around eventually.

Hopefully.

“Whatever,” he says after he doesn’t get an answer, standing and making his way to the cot a few feet away. He feels her eyes following him but doesn’t turn around or acknowledge her anymore, just lies down with his back to her and tries to sleep.

* * *

 

The next town they find is literally all a red light district and Black Star is incredibly glad for it. He needs to drink something or fight someone and he needs to get the hell away from Tsubaki and her loaded gazes and questions.

He also needs to find out where they are and make sure he’s going in the right direction, and if so, tomorrow they’re gonna fucking run to the compound because he is not waiting another goddamn day.

“You need help getting a room or can you do it by yourself?” He asks, pulling her to a stop by an alleyway. He can hear some gross-ass noises coming from down there but they’re at a fork in the road and he doesn’t want to go to the inn only to backtrack to the pubs if he can help it.

Tsubaki looks affronted at the suggestion that she can’t do something by herself and takes the money he offers her, scowling. “Where are you going?”

“The pub.”

“You trust me not to run off?” She quirks an eyebrow at him, like she thinks he’s dumb or something. He shrugs, because right now he really just doesn’t give a shit, and all he gets is an eyeroll.

He opens his mouth to tell her that eyerolls are rude, but she she turns away before he can get the chance, smacking him in the face with her hair. Fucking swell.

Black Star stalks off down the opposite road, shoving past people as he pushes into the first pub he sees.

As he makes his way toward the bar he gets an uncomfortable feeling in his gut and his wrists begin to burn a bit. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He tugs at knots that have somehow worked their way into his short locks. He’ll have to go and get her, bring her with him because he’s not fucking missing out on a chance to get shit faced--

The feeling stops before he can move anywhere, and good. She must have taken the hint and started coming this way. In the meantime, he steps up to the bar and smiles at the bartender, a fifty-something man with hardly any teeth. “Hey man, can I get a shot of your strongest stuff?”

The guy doesn’t look impressed, but he gets the drink extra quick, which is nice. Whatever it is burns like a son of a bitch going down, so he orders three more.

He’s had like...eight, maybe, by the time someone says something about his tattoo. He doesn’t realize the guy is talking to him until he shoves him off the stool he’s sitting on (which Black Star falls off of, much to his utter indignation) and the words, “Star Clan trash!” are shouted above the many other voices in the bar.

Several people stop talking and look to him. He forgot his tattoo was in plain sight, and while usually he wouldn’t give a shit, tonight he’s feelin’ real sensitive and annoyed by pretty much everything. He’s on his feet quicker than he thought possible in his slightly (greatly) inebriated state and wants to throw up almost immediately. Crap. He might go a little cross eyed.

“The fuck are you doin’ in here, you fuckin’ dirt bag?” A bald guy with many scars and several weapons on his person asks, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him forward, shouting in his face proper. “We don’t like your kind in here, soul eater!”

There is a loud chorus of “yeahs!” that make his blood boil. How many times does he have to say he’s not a fucking soul eater before people pick up what he’s trying to put down?!

“Let go of me, ya big fat fuck,” Black Star sneers, shoving his hand in the guy’s face. He sputters against his hand, which tickles, but lets him go long enough for Black Star to wind up and slug the guy across his face.

In hindsight, doing so in such an anti-Star Clan place was probably not a wise idea. Do these guys not actually see what my tattoo looks like? Pretty sure it screams banished.

Before anyone can whip their weapons out and attack him, someone pushes through the crowd, looking annoyed and relieved all at once. “Sweetie! I told you not to run off without me!”

“Whaa?” Black Star stares as Tsubaki comes up beside him, draping herself across his shoulders. Her face nuzzles into his neck where she hisses, “play along.”

She is so not saving his ass right now.

“Who the hell is this whore?” Big, bald and ugly asks, reaching out to shove Tsubaki away. Black Star steps forward because who the fuck does this guy think he is, touching his--er, the--touching Tsubaki like she’s...something to...

He needs to stop.

“Ah,” Tsubaki murmurs, stepping out of the man’s reach while pressing a hand to Black Star’s chest, keeping him from advancing any further. The men around them pause too, hands half raised to get their weapons. “I’m sorry about my husband--he can’t hold his alcohol well and he always wants to fight!”

She adds a loud, tinkling laugh to this and he shoots her an incredulous look. Is she...trying to help? He’s impressed despite himself, but he still wants to show these fuckers that the Star Clan are nothing to talk shit about.

When she gives him a dirty look, Black Star adds a reluctant belch to prove her point. “S’cuse me.”

“So gross,” she laughs, grabbing his wrist and beginning to drag him away. “Sorry about this, boys! We’ll be out of your hair in--

“Not so fast,” one guy yells, while more join in the mix. There are murmurs about Star Clan and not letting one loose in town and Black Star is fuckin’ offended, okay? He’s about to punch someone else in their rude ass face when Tsubaki beats him to the punch, socking a guy who tries to pry their hands apart right in the nose. His own nose aches just watching it, but most of the guys back off a bit. He watches as Tsubaki levels them all with a saccharine smile, voice loud when she says, “We are leaving now. Anybody who wants to interfere can try, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Have a great night!”

He’s pulled along before anyone else can say anything about them or the Star Clan.

* * *

 

She pays for the room and when they get in there, she slaps him across the face. “What were you thinking!?” She snaps, ignoring the dirty look he gives her when he touches his fingers to the sensitive and broken bridge of his nose. Holy fuck.

He glares at her standing in front of him, hands on her hips and expecting a fucking answer. Like she’s the one in charge here.

“Fuck off,” he tells her, tugging his shirt off as he shoves past her and into the washroom. It’s small and gross-looking but it’ll do. The rain earlier had washed away all the blood but he felt grimy and he didn’t want to go to sleep like that. “Go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

He turns to shut the door but she’s there, standing in the doorway looking pissed and ready to strangle him. Black Star is briefly reminded of his mom, which is gross because he’s also kind of attracted to her. But he remembers when his mom would get angry at his dad for doing something stupid or getting into trouble and how his dad would just smirk and smile and sweet talk her until she softened up a little.

Black Star has a feeling that won’t work on Tsubaki. He has a feeling he knows what will work.

“I will get naked right here. Like bare ass naked.”

The sneer Tsubaki gives him is kind of hurtful. The, “I’m sure you’ve got nothing to write home about,” she snarks makes him want to cry. He has lots to write home about. He bets she hasn’t even seen a guy’s ass before let alone a dick.

“Alright,” he shrugs, tugging at his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down his legs. He kicks them off from around his ankles and turns his back to her (despite the fact that he really wants to see her face) and reaches behind the shower curtain, turning on the shower. “Your win, I guess.”

When he turns back to her he expects that her face is super red and her jaw is clenched as tight as her fists at her sides. He almost asks if she wants to join him, just to see her head explode, but she isn’t standing by the door, she’s standing right in front of him and she doesn’t look red in the face.

Maybe it’s the alcohol from earlier that makes him do it, but when she leans forward and presses her mouth against his, Black Star pulls back.

Her eyebrows are furrowed, mouth turned down in a frown. “What...?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, heart pounding so fast he thinks it might burst. He got naked to bug her, not so she would do this. He doesn’t want her to do that if she thinks it’ll get him to let her go. He doesn’t want her to think she has to do this. She doesn’t.

Tsubaki leans away, red in her cheeks. “Kissing you.”

“Why?”

She repeats Makoto’s earlier words, though they’re softer spoken and there is more of an answer behind them, he just can’t find it. “Because why not?”

This time when she kisses him, he kisses her back.

They’re both grimy and smelly so he begins to work her shirt out from her shorts, pushing it up her torso, feeling the soft skin beneath his calloused hands. Her blue bra stops his journey but all he does is pull off her shirt before reaching around and unclasping her bra, pulling that off as well.

She really does have great tits; they’re big and warm and flush with colour as he presses his mouth to them. She pulls her hair out of it’s tie and it falls in waves around them. Black Star inhales the smell of her--sweat and blood and something flowery and if he weren’t already kind of drunk, he’d get drunk off that smell, lame as it is to say.

Her hands pull his away from her boobs and to the button on her shorts. She pants wetly against the side of his face and he forgets about the cuts on it and the broken nose because that feels great.

As she helps him unbutton her pants, his inebriated upstairs brain catches up with his downstairs brain and he stops, pulling back to look her in the eye. “I need to know that you want this,” he says because he can’t do it if she doesn’t and he won’t.

When Tsubaki meets his eyes several emotions flicker through them. He catches pleasure and guilt maybe which has him backing away even more. “I don’t want to do it if you’re not--if you don’t--”

“I wouldn’t be doing this,” Tsubaki says, very quietly and very seriously, “if I didn’t want to.”

“Then why? And I need more than ‘why not’.” And isn’t he being a fucking girl right now, sweet merciful gods. Part of him is telling him to shut the fuck up and go with it, but the moral part of him is telling him to get answers. And Black Star is a lot of things, but he isn’t...he won’t be That Guy.

“Well this is what you want, isn’t it?” She demands, hands fisted on her hips. She looks angry with him, which is understandable, and maybe a little scared, too. “When you bring me to your father, if he lets you stay, then what? Will I be given to you, to him?”

Black Star blanches at the thought of his father putting his hands anywhere near her. Besides, it wouldn’t be like that. She would be a hostage, kept in the compound to ensure that nobody moves against them. It has--sex isn’t involved. Even if it was, he doesn’t want it like this. “I don’t want this,” he tells her slowly, enunciating so she picks up what he’s fuckin’ laying down.

“Not yet,” she smiles but there isn’t any humour in it. “But what if your dad gives me to you? Wants you to prove your loyalty and get a child on the damn Shadow Weapon? What then? Will you deny him, Black Star?”

It hasn’t escaped him that they’ll want her to produce more Shadow Weapons in the future, especially with her under Star Clan control. Raising little weapons like her as assassins would be his dad’s wet goddamn dream. Still, he wouldn’t force himself on her and they may not have known each other for very long but he hopes that she thinks better of him than that. “What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” Tsubaki shrugs, lip pulled between her teeth as she stares over his shoulder. “Maybe I just want to get the first time over with so it’s not as bad next time. And it might as well be with someone I know.”

He tastes bile in the back of his throat. She wants to give her virginity to him because she’s known him for a few days? The mere idea has his head swimming with really not good thoughts and he can’t fuckin’ believe he’s in this position. Is this her way of giving up, of saying she’ll go with him quietly? He might be offended if she weren’t being such an idiot.

“That doesn’t mean you should want to have sex with me! We beat each other up a few days ago; you’ve stabbed me and I’ve hurt you and that’s so fucked up.”

“So is holding me hostage!” Tsubaki argues and the red in her cheeks isn’t from arousal anymore. He realizes belatedly that this is what she was trying to do; she was trying to show him that everything happening is fucked up, like he doesn’t already know. “So is this--this loyalty to a clan of people who consume human souls! You care about these people who--who banished you!”

He opens his mouth to protest, to tell her to shut up, something, but she beats him to it.

“You could be so much better than them. You are better than them, so why do you want their acceptance so much? They kicked you out. They made you leave and nobody came after you! They don’t care! I could,” here she takes a breath and she looks so earnest, so desperate for him to believe her, “you could come back to Shibusen with me. Make yourself something better than them. Prove to them that you’re not...that you’re not nothing!” But he’s already shaking his head, pressing his hand against his arm.

He wants to believe that, really he does. But he’s lived with Chika who is better than him and the Star Clan and everything they stand for but stays for reasons he still doesn’t quite know. If there isn’t another option for Chika, there isn’t for him. It sucks, yeah, but that’s just the hand he was dealt and there is no other way around it. Black Star doesn’t believe in a whole lotta shit, but he’s always kind of believed in fate.

Tsubaki huffs out a breath and they must look ridiculous, standing here naked and half-naked, arguing and wasting water. He almost wants to go back to the kissing and boob-touching, wishes she’d never said anything or tried to prove a point. Wishes that Chika never came and saw him, that Chika stopped giving a shit about him.

“Black Star,” she says, “you’re not like them.”

“You don’t know anything!” Black Star shouts, turning away and slamming his fist over the shower tap, shutting off the spray of water. If she’s not gonna fuck off long enough to let him shower in peace then he’s going to sleep.

“Then show me,” Tsubaki breathes and he wonders if she would be doing this if he didn’t have her bound to him. She reaches out her hand and he knows what she wants only it isn’t really possible.

“We can’t resonate,” he sighs, “we’ve only ever fought together once, we can’t--”

“Just try,” she pleads and he looks at her hand, pale and long and soft-looking. He knows better than to do it, knows that taking her hand will only take him places that he really doesn’t wanna go.

Something tells him, though, that he should. So he does.

* * *

 

_He is home and his father’s hand is whip-like as he strikes his mother across the face. Silence echoes for a long moment and Black Star sees red--_

_Chika says, “have you heard the rumours?” And has bruises on her arms and throat. Black Star thinks, Aunt Minako must be training her hard, and doesn’t think about the shadows in Chika’s eyes--_

_Mom is crying again and holding her stomach and he doesn’t know why she’s doing that, what’s she asking for, why’s she asking for another one, why she’s screaming and laughing and crying, why’s mom crying, dad, why’s she holding her belly, is everything okay with little sis--_

_“You were named after your uncle. He was so great, such a wonderful man and so strong, too Black Star. My little warrior--”_

_“It’s because of your mother that I don’t kill you right now, boy. But if I see you again, I won’t hesitate to rip your throat out and I’ll give your soul to her, you traitorous little--”_

 

He’s back in the tiny, dirty bathroom with Tsubaki what feels like years later. It must not be long, though, because the mirror is fogged with condensation from the shower he’d only just turned off.

Tsubaki looks sick and he feels much the same. The skin around her eyes is dark, her mouth pursed in a straight line.

“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, voice cracking on the words, eyes wide and stomach churning.

He distantly hears her say, we just resonated, I think, but he can’t think beyond the images he just saw, can’t see anything beyond the shadows and the lies he was never smart enough to notice before. They’re not...they can’t be eating souls, not all of them, at least, but they’re doing something.

Dropping Tsubaki’s hand, Black Star passes her quickly, moving into the room and grabbing his bag of clothing. He pulls out a pair of shorts and tosses Tsubaki the ones she wore the night before and a shirt, but beyond that he doesn’t acknowledge her.

How could resonating do that? He always thought that it enhanced attack techniques, not that you could see into someone’s mind or soul. And hell, he was under the impression that only the most experienced and powerful meisters and weapons could resonate--at least ones who knew each other longer than a handful of days.

Tsubaki dresses quietly behind him but her gaze doesn’t drift far away. Did she see everything that he saw? She must have, otherwise she should have been asking up his ass about what he saw. It unnerves him that she witnessed those parts of him, those memories that he’s never shown anyone, that he’s never thought about more than he had to. Putting too much thought into things he saw in the Clan never boded well for anyone, least of all him.

He makes his way to the bed, pulling back the sheet and dropping down onto it, his back to her. It’s almost completely quiet in the room for what feels like eternity before she turns off the lights and slides into the bed behind him, shoulder pressed to his back.

It doesn’t take long for her to say anything, though he didn’t really expect it to. “He hit your mom,” she whispers, sounding horrified and sad, “and you stood up for her. That’s why you were banished?”

He didn’t stand up for her so much as he tried to kill his dad. It’d taken four people to keep them away from each other, but at the time it had been worth it. The entire side of his mom’s face had already begun to swell and bruise, but she hadn’t looked horrified about what just happened, or angry. She just looked guilty and when he tried to speak to her, Goro and Daichi had pulled him away while Aunt Minako, Uncle Jiro, and Uncle Kenji tried to talk to his father. The room had seemed so still and quiet, and Black Star knew when he met Katsuya’s eyes that he was in for it.

There were rules in the Clan. Ones that were written out and ones you just knew because they made sense. For instance, when out on a job you did it as quickly and efficiently as possible, and you didn’t leave it unfinished. That was something they were all taught. An unspoken rule was never interrupt White Star during his rages.

His mom used to tell him that his dad was really messed up after the first Black Star died. He blamed himself and because of it he threw himself into the Clan and his work, trying to make things better. All it served to do was make things more tense, really. White Star made sure everyone knew he was in charge, and anything he didn’t like would be dealt with swiftly and efficiently.

So the morning after he and his father fought, Black Star expected a reprimand. He expected to be yelled at and punished and had prepared for it. He hadn’t expected a bag to be tossed his way, nor did he expect his father to tell him he was banished.

Nobody came to say good-bye to him.

He explains it to Tsubaki in as few sentences as he can, keeping out some of the embarrassing stuff, like how he’d begged his dad for another chance and how he’d cried like a little bitch baby when his dad just laughed in his face. By the time he’s finished, his chest is tight and his eyes are stinging.

“But you’re still going to go back?” She whispers, having turned toward him at some point. He can feel her warm breath along his shoulderblades. “You want to be around people who wouldn’t even say goodbye?”

It’s stupid, he’s well aware. Chika told him once that they were all forbidden from seeing him again after that night, that she herself had been tied up and locked in her room so she wouldn’t try and follow him. But was his mom really that afraid of his father to...to not say bye? After all he’d done for her, that was what he got?

Sometimes, when he really thought about it, Black Star hated and missed her the most. She was why he was doing this. She and Chika and Katsuya and everyone else who didn’t like the way his father ran things.

Black Star wants to be better. He wants to lead the Clan in a new direction, whether or not his dad or the older members are up for it. That’s why he needs Tsubaki. He needs to prove that he can do something good for them, that he can be the leader they need. Turning on his back, he can hear the breath she lets out. She sounds defeated.

“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” She whispers in the darkness, breath warming his collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her and means it.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

“What happens if they’re consuming human souls?” Tsubaki asks, biting into an peach loudly. What a fantastic fuckin’ ice breaker.

They haven’t spoken for the better part of the morning, which was fine by him. He preferred traveling in silence anyway, it let him better keep track of his surroundings. Only this silence had been heavy and awkward and more than once he’d almost gone the wrong way.

At least she could keep up with him.

She bites into her peach again, quirking an eyebrow at him.

He scowls. “They’re not.” It sounds hollow, even to him, but he won’t admit it until he knows for sure they are. All the rumours that have been said about them come from people who didn’t have proof; Tsubaki might have heard Green Star admitting he ate them, but it didn’t mean shit for the rest of the Clan.

She twirls her hand in the air, juice from the peach flying everywhere. “Okay, well if they are?”

As much as he hates to admit it, the question is a good one. If they are eating souls (and he can see some of them doing it, but others? Not so much.) would they be able to stop? Would they want to? Black Star’s been told countless times that “once an addict, always an addict,” and he wonders if souls to his family are like drugs to a junkie. And wouldn’t the side effects already have started?

He rubs a hand across his face and immediately regrets it. The cuts across his face are still painful as fuck and he winces when one of his callouses catch against it. Fuckin’ Green Star.

Tsubaki chucks her half-eaten peach at him, and he shouts a curse when the juice lands in his eyes and cuts. “Woman! Stop! I don’t know what I’ll do!” He snaps when she raises another whole one; he really shouldn’t have given her her own money to get food, wow. “I’m not worried about it.” That’s a lie, but who cares.

She probably does, actually. Her lips purse and she walks past him, biting savagely into her peach. “Alright, say they’re eating souls and they want you to. Would you?”

Childishly, he sticks his tongue out at her retreating back. “Of course I wouldn’t. That’s disgusting; I just killed my cousin for doing it.” He’s pretty sure one of the cuts is bleeding again. or leaking something. He’s a fuckin’ mess. “Don’t be gross, Shadow Weapon.”

“And if they gave you no choice?”

Well. Well fuck her and her good questions. If they make him do it he can’t just say no; not if he wanted to live, that is. He could fight his dad on it, but then what? He would technically be the next in line for leader but if Grey Star or Dark Star challenged him, would he be able to stop them? Actually, Grey Star would probably want to kill him for taking out Makoto.

Eh, he’ll deal with it when the time comes. “Then I guess there will be a little bit of fighting.” He watches her watch him and tosses her a smile that he hopes is reassuring. Her eyes rest a bit longer on his lips and he has the urge to lick them. So he does.

Tsubaki looks away. “And if they want me to?”

The image of his family holding her down and forcing a human soul into her mouth leaves a bitter taste in his own mouth and his hands clench into fists at his side. “Why do you keep asking me this crap? I already told you I’m not going to let it happen.” He picks up his pace to match hers, shoving his hands deep in his pockets so she can’t see how tightly they’re clenched.

Tsubaki keeps her gaze straight ahead, spine like steel. “I’m just wondering what will happen. I’d like to know what I’m walking into.”

Black Star sighs, shutting his eyes against the blinding sun and a budding headache. He’s wondering that himself; will everyone be the same as before, or will they be different? It’s been two years and he knows that a lot can change in two months, let alone...

He doesn’t know what they’ll be walking into, but he does know what he walked out of, so he tells her that. “There are fifteen of us. My dad and his two brothers were kind of the ones who started the whole ‘Star Clan’ thing. I mean, they came from a family of assassins but they usually did things by themselves...uh, when they started doing that shit their cousins Minako and Kenji joined up too. After that they...did stuff for a while until my dad and my mom got married; after that Goro and Ryuuji came. Only three of them are still active in the clan.” He shrugs; all he’s ever really heard about the days before all the kids were born were that they were “the best days” of all their lives which, 1) rude, and 2) probably super true. Things were a lot more lenient back then. Shibusen hadn’t really given a shit about a small little group who killed for money.

“What about all your cousins?” She asks, voice quiet. The only sound between them is their feet kicking up gravel and the wind through the trees.

He starts to tell her about his cousins, mostly because the silence is getting to him and he wants her to know how much cooler he is than all of them. Except maybe Chika. He tells her about Katsuya and her husband Daichi; how they were trying for a baby and how Katsuya is like everyone’s mom. She’d become like that after her brother died and hadn’t stopped. He remembers a time his dad came back to the compound all fucked up and she’s shouted at him for an hour and a half. Everyone had been worried as hell for her, but his dad had never said anything. Daichi was probably the only person (other than himself, of course) that could run the clan without running it into the ground.

Naomi and Makoto are his Uncle Jiro’s kids and probably the two cousins he hates the most. Naomi was always full of herself and bitchy, loud, always trying to make sure everyone knew how great she was. Makoto was different; he was always unsure of himself, jealous of Black Star and Chika, and a little shit.

Rika, Mika, and Chika are his Aunt Minako’s daughters and they were all fierce as hell. Rika, the new Red Star, wasn’t around much, but he remembers how frosty she was, how she never really spoke to anyone. She reminded him of Goro, who had trained her the most when she was growing up. He was their poisons specialist but had lost a leg during a job. Mika was nuts and probably the biggest threat going back. If she’s consuming souls, he’ll probably have to kill her.

He knows his voice changes when he talks about Chika. He can tell the way Tsubaki slows her brisk walk and looks at him more. He tells her about growing up and training with her, going on small jobs together. By the time he’s done talking about her his face is red and it doesn’t have anything to do with the sun.

“You really care about her, huh?” Tsubaki murmurs, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He gets a better look at the scratches on her face and a bruise along her jaw.

“Yeah, I guess.” He scratches his scalp and squints down the road. “You might like her too. You kind of remind me of her, actually.”

Does she blush? It’s hella bright out here so he can’t really tell, but by the way she turns her face away from him, she might. He grins despite himself and lifts his arms, bracing them behind his head. “I think you’ll be fine there, really.”

“What about your mom?” She asks quietly. “What’s she like?”

Black Star wrinkles his nose. His mom can be a lot of things: happy, angry, sad, quiet, loud. Sometimes he felt like he was her mom, always making sure she ate or making sure she didn’t hyperextend her leg. She’d hurt her leg defending him from a pre-kishin. Ever since she’d stopped going on jobs when he was eight she’d been different, at least toward him.  Not as happy, maybe. More often than not he didn’t even want to be around her; she was always going on about what could have been, about things he couldn’t change and he always felt really guilty about going on jobs.

He loved her, he did. But sometimes he didn’t know if she loved him, which was the shittiest thing he could ever think or say.

“She’s alright,” he murmurs, ignoring the glance Tsubaki turns his way. “She’s just...my mom, y’know?”

“No,” Tsubaki says, her laugh harsh and grating. “I don’t.”

* * *

 

“What have you done?”

He thinks maybe it’s a dream at first, but then he realizes that he is totally awake. Then he wonders if maybe the berries Tsubaki picked were poisonous and he’s hallucinating but that’s just dumb because he doesn’t feel any different and Tsubaki’s still standing and looking relatively normal and she ate most of them.

So he’s about ninety-nine percent sure that Chika is real, standing on a large branch in the tree across from them.

For the first time in a long time, Chika looks unhinged. Her face is red and her hair is a ratty halo around her head. Her clothes are mud stained and when he looks close enough, he can see that her eyes are red-rimmed.

He knows what she’s talking about. There is really only one thing she could be talking about. Still, he doesn’t want to admit it yet and he would much rather know why she’s here and how she found Green Star in the first place.

“Silver Star,” Black Star greets, watching Tsubaki shift from a fighting stance into something akin to normal, though he can still sense how tense she is. Thank the gods he’d decided to tell her Chika’s name. “You’re a long way from home.”

“You should be a long way from home,” she snarls, eyes narrowed. He catches the glimmer of a blade in her hand and his muscles tense, his own hand flying to the kunai at his hip. “Did you kill him?”

What’s her issue? “Yeah, Chiks. I did what I had to.”

She growls something unintelligible in Japanese, gnawing her lower lip between her teeth. “Black,” she says and there is something beneath the steel in her voice, making it waver. “They’re going to kill you.”

Wait just a goddamn minute. “How the shit did you find him? How did you find us?”

She shifts her stance so she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest, looking super unimpressed and he really should have known she would be following him to make sure he got the job done. She’s always done that. “You’re not that difficult to track, idiot. Your bright ass hair gives you away quite a bit, but you’re also not that great at hiding your trail. Thankfully those dumbass Shibusen kids aren’t that great at tracking.”

Tsubaki lets out a small sigh which sounds pretty long-suffering. “They’re really not.”

Chika eyes her interestedly, lips pursing. “She’s different than I thought she would be.”

“How so?”

“Well for one, she’s listening to you.”

Black Star scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Um, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, why. Are. You. Here?”

“Because Naomi contacted me and asked how her little brother was doing on his initiation job. And because I maaaybe fell behind a little bit on keeping up with you, but only because I stopped in a town your ass was too stupid to see for an awesome spa sale. Free mud baths with purchase of seaweed wrap and facial. It was nice. You could probably use one too; nice face.”

Black Star stopped listening at Naomi. “Does she know?”

“No,” Chika places her sai back in the holster at her hip. “And I burned his body. You really should have done at least that. Why did you kill him, Black?”

He looks away at her heavy gaze, pressing a hand on his tattoo. He dreads the next words out of his mouth, dreads them because she could confirm his suspicions, confirm the rumours he’s had to grow up around and he doesn’t know if he’s ready.

Tsubaki steps up closer behind him and he takes a breath. “He was eating souls, Chika.”

The tree she’s standing in is about five meters away and he nearly can’t hear her say, “Yeah, kid. They all are.”

* * *

 

He doesn’t remember starting to run, but he becomes aware of it when something tugs at his stomach and his wrists begin to burn. The faint outline of chains begin to show up on the tanned skin of his wrists, but he doesn’t stop, just pushes through the uncomfortable feeling. He needs to be away from Chika, who didn’t tell him, and Tsubaki, who wouldn’t stop looking at him all sympathetic, and needs to get to his dad and rip his fucking throat out.

He shoved a soul down Daichi’s throat. He told Naomi and Rika that he’d kill their siblings if they didn’t eat one, and now--now they’re all, no, they have been soul eaters and everyone was right, everyone who shit talked them and called them monsters and they were fucking right--

* * *

 

Silver Star watches with a sad look on her face as Black Star leaps off the tree branch and begins running. Tsubaki had figured he would react something like this (he seemed the type), but she still groans when her wrists begin to burn. He’s awfully fast for someone with such short legs.

His cousin stands there looking after him dumbly for a moment, and Tsubaki realizes that this is her chance. Her wrists don’t hurt that badly yet and her stomach is in only mild knots but she bets if she began to run the other way while Silver Star tracked down Black Star she would get far enough away that her friends would find her. She could run past the pain, she’s sure.

She will not be going to the Star Clan compound, not after what Chika said. She shudders at the thought of having a soul--a human soul--offered to her. The thought makes her stomach clench even more than it already is.

When Silver Star turns to look back at her, eyebrows furrowed, she says, “You should go,” and Tsubaki nearly falls off the tree in shock.

What?

The other girl must see her confusion because she sighs, running a hand over her face. She turns away for a brief moment--maybe to collect herself?--before turning back, face determined and hard.

“He’s--we--are not going back there.”

She drops off the tree before Tsubaki can say anything, running in the direction Black Star took off.

Her wrists burn more now and something tells her she should be running in the same direction, but Tsubaki doesn’t know when she’ll get another chance like this.

He has Silver Star, Tsubaki reasons. He will...he’ll be fine.

Tsubaki closes her eyes, makes her decision.

* * *

 

His lungs are burning, wrists bloody and burned when he trips to a stop over a tree trunk, tumbling to the ground. He’s so tired and sore that he doesn’t bother trying to move for a few minutes, just tries to focus through the pain in his abdomen and wrists. Either he was running pretty goddamn fast or Tsubaki took this chance to take off.

Good, he thinks angrily, fisting his hands in the grass. They don’t deserve to have her.

He’s wracked with nausea when the tightening in his stomach grows exponentially and he wonders how she’s still moving, how she’s still breathing when he throws up into the grass, throat hoarse and dry once he’s finished.

You have to get back up, he tells himself, willing his body to comply. His stomach twists in tight and painful knots, wrists trembling as he attempts to keep upright. Get. Up.

And do what? The thought comes unbidden and he snaps his eyes shut at it, squeezing them until the cut across his face begins to ache too. It’s a good question: what will he do? He can’t possibly hope to beat his dad, not with this pain inside him, not without canceling the binding spell and he can’t do that without Tsubaki with him. He doesn’t think Chika would help him fight and what if he did beat his dad? The rest of the Clan would be there and if they’re as hopped up on souls as Chika says they are, they won’t be willing to give that up without a fight.

He’s fucked. Everything is fucked up and he doesn’t know what to do or how to do it. He lifts a fist and slams it into the ground and then rolls over onto his back.

By the time Chika finds him there is sweat beading on his forehead and he’s nearly soaked through with it. He wonders how Tsubaki is still alive, let alone moving. And she must be, because the pain grows every few minutes.

Chika takes a look at his vomit, frowns, and then sits down on his other side, knees pulled to her chest. She looks small and fragile now, curled in on herself. He realizes that she’s looked like this for a lot longer than he’d ever realized. She looked like this even before he was kicked out.

Thinking back, there must have been a lot he missed. Turning his head is painful, but he does it. “Why couldn’t I see it?”

Chika seems to sink into herself, shoulders hunched up around her shoulders. When he looks hard enough, her eyes are darker than normal. “I really don’t know, Black Star. There was so much...” she swallows, clears her throat. “The older members thought it would be best to ‘initiate’ us when we turned eighteen, but with you gone they were impatient and let Makoto start. They don’t do it a lot, but when they do it’s--Black Star, I’ve never seen so many souls in one place before. They took out an entire village for fun.

“I think I’ve always known, too. Mom could smell us sometimes. Like, knew we were home before we even got to the compound. She could always tell when Rika snuck out into town to hook up with that one boy. But when your mom...when she lost the baby, I remember overhearing Goro talking to Katsuya about how it had come out wrong, how he thought her “diet” had something to do with it.” She looks green and he guesses he must look the same. His stomach rolls again, and this time it has nothing to do with the pain. He remembers how excited she’d been when she told him she was having a baby and he remembers hoping for a little brother and then...

“Did they ever make you eat one?” He asks, turning his gaze away from her and focusing on the darkening sky above them. He already knows the answer, can see the hives along her collarbone, the track marks her nails must have made along her arms. She’s alive, isn’t she? There was no way she’d be allowed to live without eating a soul. He isn’t surprised when she doesn’t answer him.

“We aren’t going back there,” she murmurs eventually, setting her chin on her knees. A shudder runs through her and he can see how unhinged she is. “I can’t go back there.”

He’s about to speak, to tell her that it’s fine, he can do it alone, when his heart seems to spasm in his chest, as stupid as it sounds. He doesn’t know any other way to explain it. One second his heart is beating faster than normal, the next it seizes up, and he brings a hand to his chest, squeezing the fabric of his shirt.

Tsubaki.

Chika is on her knees beside him but he doesn’t understand what she’s saying; he needs to get up, needs to find Tsubaki and unbind her from him before he fucking dies. Before she dies.

Gritting his teeth against the pain and ignoring the tears that drip down his face (he’s not crying ok his eyes are just watering because the pain is really bad). Chika looks wide-eyed and uncertain but she helps him to his feet regardless. He stumbles a bit, which lessens the pain a bit.

“I cast a binding spell,” he tells Chika, grabbing her offered hand and hauling himself to his feet. The look she gives him is wholly unimpressed and he doesn’t exactly disagree. He probably didn’t need to do it. Shit, but his wrists really fucking hurt. “I need to find her and uncast it.”

“No shit.”

* * *

 

The closer they get to her, the more the pain subsides.

Black Star grins when he can finally breathe easy, his lungs expanding the way they should as he sucks greedily. Chika looks over at him with a quirked eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything scathing or the like, so he’s grateful.

“I think we’re close,” he tells her just to fill up the empty space between them. He notices that she runs faster than she used to, that she’s barely panting. It sends a shiver down his spine and he wonders if the rest of the family is like this, or worse.

“I figured when you stopped hunching over when you ran,” Chika teases, hair flying around her face. Black Star has no idea how girls can keep their hair long like that and still run and fight; it seems awful annoying and like it would get in the way, and besides, it’s a huge liability.

He turns away from looking at her just in time to dodge the swing of a scythe into his fucking face. “Whoa!”

He tucks and rolls, hitting the ground hard as he avoids the tiny little meister who just tried to take his head off. Chika veers right to avoid the meister too, coming to a stop beside him, her back to the meister as she stares the way they were coming. “There are more of them.”

Fingers sore and dirty from digging into the ground to stop his slide, Black Star pushes to his feet, shaking out his hands. The pain isn’t there anymore, just a phantom version of it, but he wonders how Tsubaki is doing.

Chika must read his mind because she says in a low murmur, “Go. I’ll be fine.”

He cuts a glance at her, wondering if maybe she’s lying and she can’t handle it, but there is something off about her. Maybe it’s her mouth pulled taught in a cutting grin, or maybe it’s her eyes, slowly bleeding red and starred.

“Don’t kill any of them,” he stresses, before twisting around and darting back the way he came between two more meisters.

She isn’t far off, he realizes gratefully. In fact, she’s hidden beyond a tree, curled into herself and panting. The girls sitting with her--one pink haired and the other dark--shift when he steps into their line of vision, reaching for each other’s hands.

He holds up his own hands, weaponless, and says, “I’m not going to hurt her. I want to remove the binding spell I cast and then I’ll be gone.”

The pink haired girl bares her teeth and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say the air around them thickened. “How the hell do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t.”

“Well, we’re not taking that chance.”

He opens his mouth to argue with the idiot when a soft voice interrupts. “Just let him, Kim. I’ll be alright; go see if the others are doing okay.”

“Tsubaki!” the pink haired--Kim--begins to argue, but the other girl at her side simply reaches up, tangling their hands together. Her dark eyes are resting on Black Star, erie and knowing.

Her mouth is opened in a small ‘o’, but before he can analyze it any further, she’s a lantern in Kim’s hand. “Let’s go,” a disembodied metallic voice says, spurring the pink haired bitch into action.

She calls him a really vile name under her breath as she passes, but Black Star ignores her for the sake of getting to Tsubaki’s side.

She’s obviously winded, her chest heaving, her wrists bloody and bruised from his bindings. His own wrists are still sore and bloody, but beyond that he’s not in any pain. It must be different for the captive, he realizes, watching Tsubaki’s eyes watch him, pain barely concealed in them.

Black Star drops down beside her with a sigh. He’s exhausted and annoyed but he’s glad her friends found her, and he’s glad he can see her before he goes back to the compound.

“I hate to say I told you so,” he teases softly, picking up a damp lank of hair and pushing it behind her ear. Her dark eyes glare up into his, but her mouth is soft and lifted slightly.

“If you finish that sentence--”

“--but I told you so,” Black Star says airily, tipping his head back and looking at the stars. The sky is full of them and the moon is only a sliver in the darkness.

Tsubaki groans beside him and it tapers off into a whimper of sorts. He glances down but her face is blank and her eyes are trained on his pants. Oh, right, the spell.

It’s pretty easy to do, just mutter a few words in Latin and boom, they’re unbound; the chains resurface red hot on both their arms for a brief moment before fading away, and slowly he watches as her breathing evens out into something normal, colour returning to her cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s my fault for thinking I could get away without feeling the pain.”

“It’s not your fault,” Black Star snaps without meaning to, turning away when Tsubaki’s eyes glance up at her. “It’s not.”

“Okay,” Tsubaki murmurs, shifting so she’s sitting up better. They sit in silence for a few minutes, just listening to Chika and Tsubaki’s friends fighting a few meters away and wow, he should probably go and help her or ask Tsubaki to call off the rabid dogs she calls friends, but he can’t force the words past his lips. Chika won’t kill them, and anyway, she can hold her own for a while longer.

Black Star drops his head into his hands, “I shouldn’t have tried to--I shouldn’t have taken you.”

“No,” Tsubaki murmurs, “you shouldn’t have. But I do know what it feels like to want to prove yourself, especially to family.”

It’s not forgiveness, not even a little bit, but it’s a start and that’s all he really needs. Lifting his head, Black Star looks her over for any more damage from the spell. She looks much better now so that is good. “You and your friends should leave, alright? I got shit to do and the last thing I need is you losers tagging along and fucking things up--not that you would fuck things up,” he does some weird hand motions, hoping it will convey his hopeless thoughts, but when all Tsubaki does it lift an unimpressed eyebrow, he sighs, “You’re not shitty. Your lame friends are.”

Her lips purse and she looks like she wants to say something, but he gets to his feet before he gets the chance. Distantly, Chika shouts his name and a few garbled curses.

Tsubaki is slower to get up but she ignores the hand he offers her and instead uses the tree to hoist herself into a standing position. She must still be feeling some of the pain because she’s hunched in on herself a bit.

Black Star, lame as it fucking is, tries to memorize her. If he dies today, he’s gonna die thinking of someone gorgeous like her; even with all the dirt and blood, Tsubaki is fuckin’ stunning. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at her until he’s only a few inches away from her face, and then he pulls back sharply, holding his hand out between them like a fucking idiot. Chika yells again.

“Thanks for not killing me,” he mutters, other hand twitching at his side. He feels like such an idiot, holy shit. “And for being a...well you weren’t that great a captive but you weren’t a shitty one either, so thanks.”

Her smile is teasing and maybe a little worried, but Black Star ignores it when she takes his hand tightly and shakes it. A tiny jolt goes through his arm at the contact and he almost asks: come fight with me?

He actually has to bite his tongue and tug his hand away, and as she begins to open her mouth to say something, Chika screams.

It’s different from her shouts; before she seemed annoyed, but now she sounds like she’s hurt or in trouble and he doesn’t hesitate when he hears it a second time, just runs the way he came from.

Tsubaki is a few feet behind and she slams into him as he comes to a stop where he last saw Chika and the other meisters and weapons fighting. Black Star barely stumbles when Tsubaki hits him, doesn’t even wince when she digs her nails into his arm to keep upright.

Actually, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to move again.

The Scythe Meister’s eyes are wide, green and terrified and when they flicker up to his, Black Star can't even hate the idiot for impaling his stupid cousin, especially not when the scythe disappears into a tall white haired kid with razor teeth, and catches Chika as she falls forward.

“Maka...what...?” Tsubaki sounds confused. Black Star doesn’t think he’s breathing.

Is Chika?

He’s at her side before he’s fully aware of it, pulling her from the scythe’s grip painstakingly. He also doesn’t realize he’s murmuring no under his breath until she reaches up with a shaking hand to press it against his mouth. “Shuddup.”

The Scythe Meister, Maka, Tsubaki called her, drops to her knees beside her weapon, gloved hands shaking. “She just...it was like she jumped in the way, I didn’t even think I would hit her--”

Black Star inhales through his mouth, nose too clogged with the smell of Chika’s blood. His cousin’s eyes are fluttering and wet, mouth gaping like a dying fish (and she is dying, she’s dying and he--it’s all his fucking fault) and the big...hole in her middle is all gore and blood and--and it’s black, her blood is fucking black--

“You stupid bitch,” he hisses, teeth clenched as he realizes what she’s done. “We could have fixed it, we could have saved you.”

Chika’s mouth lifts in what she probably thinks is a smile but is more of a grimace. “No...Star, w’couldn’t.”

He’s not crying, but it’s a near thing. Fuck Chika and her selfish sacrifice and fuck the clan and their choice to eat human souls and fuck, how is he going to pull this off now? He might have been able to take his dad out with Chika, but now he’s fucked.

A hand tightens around the collar of his shirt tugs and he leans forward to better hear Chika, who snaps in a clear voice, “Promise me you won’t go back there.”

He can’t do that. He won’t promise her because he can’t keep that promise and he won’t lie to a dying girl. Especially not one he fucking cares about.

Before he can get a chance to say anything, Chika surges forward, coughing up blood. It comes from her nose and her eyes, too, and fuck he knows what she’s going to say before she says it. “Oh man, Black, y’gotta kill me.”

Maka murmurs, “she won’t last much longer,” and her scythe says, “she’ll last long enough to suffer,” and Black Star presses his lips against Chika’s forehead as he slips his kunai between her ribs.

She lets out one last quivering breath, and then she’s gone.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

He knew what it would look like, but seeing it in person and thinking about it are two vastly different things. For one, he didn’t expect it to smell.

Chika’s soul hovers quietly above her body, red like her hair and red like blood and the sight of it makes his heart clench painfully in his chest. A memory of the time she tripped running down the stairs at the compound and stabbed herself through the hand surfaces, and he remembers thinking then that there was so much blood, but Chika hadn’t cried, just stared at it and wheezed like an idiot until Goro came and patched her up.

He’s coated in Chika’s blood, the slowly congealing liquid burrows under his nails and leaves his hands slick, but he manages to stand with her in his arms before putting her over one shoulder. He doesn’t have the time to burn her body now, and he wants his dad to see what he’s fucking done.

The soul continues to float where it rose from her chest and Maka stares at it momentarily, meets her weapon’s eyes, and then Black Star’s. “What would you like us to do with the soul?”

The guy with three white stripes in his hair steps forward and Black Star can tell that there is something off about him--maybe it’s the crazy blonde to the right of him or the somber one on his left, but whatever it is it makes his hackles rise. “If you do not want Soul to have it, I can bring it back to Shibusen with me. My father will know what to do with it.”

Soul? Black Star looks at the white haired dude who killed his cousin and frowns. What a stupid name for a weapon. What a stupid name in general.

“He can have it,” Black Star jerks his chin toward Soul, who gets to his feet easily and cups the soul delicately in his palm. His arm is half stretched like he’s not sure what to do with it, “Are you sure?”

“Your kill, your spoil.”

Soul nods minutely, stepping away to let Black Star pass. “I’m sorry,” the guy murmurs as he passes with Chika, and yeah, so is Black Star.

He’s surprised that they’re letting him away this easy--maybe it’s because they killed his cousin--but still; he kidnapped their friend and put her through a fuckton of pain. If he were them, he’d kick his ass.

Thankfully, he’s not.

He’s about to start running when Tsubaki calls his name. Turning carefully, he meets her eyes.

“Good luck,” she tells him in Japanese, face set in a look of determination, and he spares her a smile before he leaves.

* * *

 

When she was young, Izumi always loved staying up late at the compound waiting for someone to get back from a job. She did it constantly when Haruki would go without her even though he was always cranky when he got home, and she did it secretly when her Black Star became of age. It was habit, almost, but in the last year and a half she had stopped waiting up. For a while after her boy was banished she had waited up, waited for Haruki to change his mind and bring him home, but he never did and her boy never dragged his sorry ass up the winding road that led to the compound.

So when Minako had been bitching earlier about Chika’s whereabouts, Izumi had offered to stay up and wait for the girl. Chika was always running off, sometimes on her own, sometimes after her sisters. Either way, she always turned up alright in the end.

Izumi yawns around midnight, watching as Katsuya rubs her swollen belly idly. Pregnancy looks good on the girl, makes her glow and shine in a way it had never made Izumi. “Have you thought of a name, Kat?”

Minako shifts on her right, face pointed toward the darkness. Katsuya rests a hand across her belly, the limb shaking lightly. “No, Daichi likes a few but I’m skeptical. I like Kagami, personally, but he doesn't.”

Minako chimes in, “Names are the easy part; raising them is a different story. If I ever have to give a little girl the talk on why she’s bleeding out of her crotch again, I think I’ll just kill her.”

The look Katsuya gives is lost on Minako, but Izumi spots it and muffles a laugh in her hand. “I don’t know,” she says after her laughter has subsided, “boys are worse. I had to tell him once why his little soldier would stand up whenever he watched TV.”

“Yeah,” Minako mutters between laughs, “you know White Star would never tell him.”

Katsuya is doubled over in laughter, wiping away tears at the corner of her eyes when Minako exhales sharply. Izumi turns to her, hand already reaching for the shuriken she keeps strapped to her leg. “What is it?”

Katsuya has stopped laughing and now watches the two of them warily. “Should I go get the others?”

Minako’s next words send Izumi’s heart into her throat and her fingers stutter over the shuriken blade, cutting them open.

“Your boy is home, Izumi. And he’s brought something dead.”

* * *

 

The compound doesn’t look any different, although he didn’t really expect it to.

He reaches the courtyard with a few seconds to spare, Chika’s body grown cold over his shoulder, before the first few people arrive.

Goro comes first, with Ryuuji following closely behind. The clan’s poison and weapons experts, respectively, look the same as they did two years ago: old. Their eyes are wide when they land on him, and he must be a sight all covered in blood and dirt and sweat, a long cut across his face. Not to mention the bruises and cuts all over the rest of his body.

Before either of them can speak, the air around him shifts and he steps back just in time to avoid Mika’s darts and Rika’s arrow. When he looks up, the girls stand there with Naomi, Dark Star, Grey Star, and Yellow Star. To his left stands Minako and his mother.

Everything is tense, silent. Either Minako hasn’t realized that he;s holding her dead daughter, or she doesn't care. Mika and Rika do, though, and the latter shrieks, “What have you done?!” Seconds before Naomi hisses, “Where is my brother?”

“What have I done?” Black Star laughs bitterly, tightening his grip around Chika’s legs. Her body grows stiff and uncomfortable on his shoulder, but he can’t let her down yet. “She told me what you sick fucks are doing. What you made her do!”

“What is he talking about?” Minako demands, tightening her hand around the hilt of her katana. “What’s he holding?”

“Chika, Ma. He’s holding Chika,” Mika snaps, poisoned senbon needles between her fingers. “She’s dead.”

Before Minako can lunge at him, a voice stops her in her tracks. “That’s enough, Minako.”

His dad appears before him, almost like a ghost and he has to command himself not to step away. He’s here to fight his dad and showing cowardice right now isn’t going to do anything good for his cause. Still, his heart quickens in his chest.

A mask covers the lower part of his face, and his father is dressed to fight. It shouldn’t surprise Black Star that White Star knew he was here, but it does. He tightens his free hand into a fist before releasing it and letting it rest at his side. “Dad.”

“Don’t call me that,” White Star laughs, eyes partially hidden behind his hair. “You can tell me what your traitorous little ass is doing here, though. You can tell me why you have Silver Star slung over your shoulder, and you can tell me why Green Star is not here with the Shadow Weapon I asked for.”

Black Star grins like the little bastard he is. “I killed Green Star when he tried to kill me. I let the Shadow Weapon go back with her Shibusen buddies, and Silver Star killed herself because she was forced to eat fucking souls!”

He drops Chika’s body to the ground, but his dad barely flinches. All around him, Black Star can feel the malevolence of the clan rising; the anger and grief coming together and aimed straight at him. Minako and her girls are shaking, Grey Star and Naomi are ready to kill him, but all his father does is prod at Chika’s corpse with the toe of his boot. “Huh,” he murmurs, turning her to she lies on her back. “Well, I would have done it sooner or later. The brat needed to learn her place in the clan.”

Black Star sees red, but for the first time since arriving, he realizes that he doesn’t have any weapons. He used his last kunai when he killed Chika and all the weapons he had were...

In his bags. On the forest floor some fifty miles away.

He knows that he can’t beat his dad when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, nobody can. Chika’s sai are back with the stupid Shibusen assholes and oh, fuck, he is so done.

So. Done.

He notices that something is wrong, but he can’t tell what it is until Grey Star starts yelling at his dad for permission to kill him, what with Black Star killing his kid and all.

Minako hasn’t said anything about White Star planning to kill Chika for her insubordination, hasn’t said anything since he dropped Chika’s body. Actually, she looks hella fucking calm right now, way too calm for someone who just lost their kid.

“Shut the fuck up, Jiro,” White Star sneers beneath his mask, all the while keeping his gaze on Black Star. A shiver of trepidation drips down his spine and all the hair on his neck and arms rise. “If a banished idiot could kill your boy, he doesn’t deserve to be alive. Ah--” he clucks before Grey Star can say anything else, “don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Grey Star seethes in silent fury beyond his father, and Black Star is well and truly fucked. Not only will he have his dad gunning for him, but Grey Star and Minako too.

His mom has stayed silent the entire time, but that isn’t a surprise. In fact it’s probably the only thing that isn’t different and strange about this entire fucking thing. He meets her eyes briefly before she looks away, red heating her cheeks.

“Now, boy,” White Star says, clasping his hands together in front of him. They’re wrapped for fighting, and Black Star’s bare knuckles feel a lot colder than they were a few seconds ago. “Tell me why you let the Shadow Weapon go, won’t you?”

“Because you don’t deserve her,” is what he blurts out and totally does not mean to say. Shit. “I mean--” but what does he mean? He doesn't think they deserve her, but he also isn’t going to remake the Star Clan. They’re all too far gone, if the sharpened teeth and general jitteriness has anything to say about it. And besides, they’re all gunning to kill him.

He catches a flash of stars in his father’s eyes before the man is there, right in front of him with a hand wrapped around his throat. “I don’t deserve her, huh?” He breathes, voice sickly sweet and breath smelling like rot. “Do you, little boy? Did you fall for the Shadow Weapon? Is that what you’ve been doing these past two years?”

“No--” he chokes out, hands wrapped around White Star’s wrist. Of course he didn’t fall in love with the fucking Shadow Weapon and no he hasn’t been with her the last two years, which he's sure his fucking dad already knows. The bastard’s probably kept tabs on him since the day he left.

His face feels hot and his neck feels like it might just snap, but he hopes none of that is showing in his face.

“I should have killed you when you first betrayed the clan, your mother be damned.”

Black Star’s eyes dart to where his mom stands, hands pressed to her mouth. Her eyes are filled with tears, but none of them fall.

The hand around his throat tightens more and White Star says, “I’m going to finish the job now,” just as something small and filled with light nails him on the wrist, stunning him long enough that Black Star can scramble away.

His dad howls something angry and unintelligible, cradling his wrist to his chest. “Who the fuck just did that!?” He shouts, looking all around him. Everyone else is doing the same, but Black Star finds them first.

The stupid fucking Shibusen kids.

“Woohoo! Kiddo, you rock!” A disembodied voice shouts from one of the guns, while another says, “Yeah, Kid, nice shot.”

Kid smiles small and happy with himself, and Black Star wants to know what came out of those guns because it looks like it hurt like hell. Maka and her weapon, Soul, stand beside him, while Kim and her weapon, a bald guy and his, and a black guy and his weapons stand behind them.

Maka says something snappy like, “Are you guys getting deja vu?” But all he can focus on is Tsubaki, who looks so worried and so happy to see him that it makes him sick. He raises a hand to her, and she nods.

They’re close to him, but not close enough to reach him before his dad decides to fuck his ass up again. Thankfully they have another plan in mind; Kim and the two other guys he doesn’t know immediately start to run toward the rest of his family, distracting his dad long enough that Black Star can run toward the others.

Tsubaki meets him half way, grabbing his hand in hers, “I can be your weapon for now, alright? Just--”

“Why are you here?” Black Star stresses, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a bit. Maka and Kid scatter when Ryuuji tosses a small bomb their way. Black Star tugs Tsubaki as far away as he can before it goes off, but the two of them still end up on their asses.

Tsubaki doesn’t make a sound as she gets to her feet beside him, just keeps her gaze focused over his shoulder. He’s almost afraid to turn around and see what she’s looking at--his dad, his mom, the rest of his family slaughtering her friends?--so instead he focuses on his previous question. “Tsubaki,” he snaps, “why are you here?”

“I--” she looks at him briefly, and if it wasn’t dark he would be able to see the blush on her face. “I could still feel some pain the farther away you got. I...I thought maybe it was like a phantom pain or something, but I wanted to make sure.”

Uh huh, sure. Whatever, he doesn’t have time to think about the real reason she’s here; he needs to find his dad and attempt to kick his ass into next week. Or until he’s dead. Actually, if he can just wound his dad badly enough then--

He turns around and watches his dad boot the bald guy in the chest, sending him flying a few feet away. When he turns around, their eyes meet and he grins.

“Oh, I’m fucked,” Black Star breathes, really rethinking this whole idea.

“You need a weapon, right?” Tsubaki asks, and her voice is quiet despite all the noise around them. He turns slowly, because she is not asking him this right now. Of course he needs a weapon, and if he had to choose a weapon right now he would pick her--just the memory of fighting with her in hand sets his skin on fire; it was exhilarating and he felt invincible at the time--but now is not a great time.

Not to mention the last time he used her weapon form she’d told him after that they would never do it again. Women.

“He’s looking over here,” Tsubaki gasps, eyes wide and he doesn’t think, just grabs her hand and spins around quick enough to block his dad’s katana with one arm, while the other arm brings up the second chain scythe, blocking the senbon his dad tries sending between his ribs. Black Star almost laughs at the clear shock in his dad’s eyes, but the feeling is gone seconds later when his father’s look goes from shocked to murderous.

Shit.

Leaping back a few feet, Black Star gives himself a second to breathe. White Star seems to be thinking something over in his head and Black Star would try the same thing, but he’s way better at just doing what comes to mind. Too much forethought makes him stiff and easy to catch; it’s something he and his dad have always disagreed on.

Before his dad can think any longer, Black Star tightens his grips around Tsubaki and charges.

* * *

 

“Oh my god, Soul,” Maka complains, batting another rain of senbon needles out of her way. The girl who threw it shrieks her annoyance, but Maka bets she is far more annoyed. “You already got one today, how hard is it to get another!?”

Soul is quiet in her hands for a moment and yeah, okay, Maka knows it’s insensitive, but her papa and her mama told her all about the gross Star Clan and taking them out would be just another thing to check off her bucket list.

She’s almost sure Soul won’t reply when he says, very deadpan and rude, “I cannot believe you just said that.”

“Oh shut up.”

* * *

 

Black Star realizes two things when fighting White Star. The first is that he can’t beat him with only a chain scythe. He doesn’t know why he thought he could, but his dad is excellent with a katana, something he’s used his entire life, and Black Star has used a chain scythe a total of four times in his life, twice with Tsubaki (including this horrible time), and twice before on jobs (each time it had been using someone’s weapon against them so...not useful). It doesn’t help that his other family members are trying to attack him too.

(He is very thankful that he can’t see Dark Star out there--Black Star would be fucked up if he were around.)

The second thing he realizes is that his mother looks ready to jump into the fray, her eyes wide and darting; not scared and weepy like she’d been before. It scares him, because he does not want to hurt her, not even a little bit, but if she gets in his way he might have to.

White Star seems to be counting on it, if the smirk he’s wearing has anything to do with it.

“Seriously,” Black Star gasps, winded from being hit in the stomach with the hilt of his father’s sword. “Don’t you have another form? Something useful?”

Tsubaki’s noise of annoyance vibrates up his arm, “Maybe if you would relax a bit our souls could resonate and we could--”

“We can’t fight him like this,” Black Star hisses, dodging a blow narrowly. Is there noise in the distance? He thinks he hears wind. “Why couldn't you be the demon sword, Tsubaki?”

Another shock spirals up his arms, and before he knows it, he’s dropped the chain scythe on the ground, arms shaking and twitching. Tsubaki lies dormant, quiet, and oh fuck she is not throwing a hissy fit right now, is she? He will be damned if he fucking dies because Tsubaki got offended by him.

His dad chooses then to attack, because why the fuck not. Black Star doesn’t have any weapons to block the attack, doesn’t think using his arms to take to blow will be smart or, y’know, safe and Tsubaki is still lying on the ground, shaking slightly--

Why the fuck is she shaking?

Before he has a chance to think more on it, she shifts back into her human form, swiping out at his dad’s legs with her hair-turned-chain scythe. His dad is smart enough to dodge it, but not before she slices open the knee of his pants.

She’s gasping, but when she stumbles to her feet, she doesn’t look too bad. “Fun fact,” she tells him, turning and meeting his eyes, “when we fight, our souls don’t match up. Which means you can’t use me to fight, which means we both die.”

Pursing his lips, Black Star holds out his hand again. “What can you change into?”

Tsubaki looks at his hand briefly, then turns back to his father, who watches them. “A short sword, like the one you had. A smoke bomb, shuriken, and chain scythe.”

He considers using the short sword, but the chain scythe might actually be a better idea. At least he can use it to block better. Maybe...maybe they can resonate their souls again, use the technique they had a few days earlier.

It’s worth a shot. “Alright, chain scythe.”

Tsubaki narrows her eyes at him, but his dad has chosen now to attack, so she doesn’t glare too much.

She doesn’t change fast enough. His father’s sword slices a thin, clean line across his face. It barely bleeds but it hurts like a bitch and he hisses, slipping to the left and bringing up his weapon, blocking another blow. Shit, he can’t keep on the offensive, he needs to start hitting back, or soon enough his dad will tire of just dicking around and actually kill him. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of his family slaughters the Shibusen morons, and--

And did his dad just fucking stumble? Because it totally seems like it. At least he’s stopped and distracted and looking off into the woods and holy fuck this is their chance, this is how he’s going to beat him. It doesn’t matter if it’s cheating or wrong, all he cares about is wiping the stain of his father off the Star Clan’s name. Tsubaki sings in his hands as he charges his father, faster than the older man can see. He’s going to do it, he’s going to kill him.

I’m sorry, Black Star thinks to nobody and everybody at once. Sorry for killing White Star, sorry for not doing it sooner. Sorry for--no, no--

The end of the scythe sinks through flesh; the sound is horrible, like digging your fingers into rotten fruit, and the blood that comes flowing beneath it is black and thick as tar, smelling like garbage and death.

Black Star’s breathing is uneven, his heart beating so fast he thinks he might die. His eyes begin to water, mouth dryer than it ever has been, and when he raises his eyes and meets his mothers, all he can see is blood-shot blue staring back at him.

Everything slows down. His father falls farther back, looking agitated but not devastated and how can that be? The rest of his family looks over, looks to the trees and to the scythe sticking out of Izumi’s--his mother’s--chest.

His mom smiles with black teeth too sharp to be human, bloody fingers coming up to touch his cheek. “I couldn’t let you kill him,” she wheezes. “I love him.”

He jerks Tsubaki from his mother’s body, pressing the blade close to his own. Beyond his mother, who sways uneasily, his father looks unimpressed. It seems like everyone in the courtyard watches as his father steps forward the last few steps toward Izumi. They watch as he grabs hold of her, and how she slumps slightly, mouth lifting in a smile.

They watch him drive his katana through her back and out her chest, all while he watches Black Star.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Probably the worst part is this: Black Star doesn’t feel a damn thing. In fact, it’s almost like a weight is lifted off his shoulders as White Star tosses his mother’s body to the side. He tells himself that it’s alright to feel this way, that he deserves to feel this way after all he’s been through, but he can’t make himself believe it. He just killed his mother, and he is alright with it.

Tsubaki appears in a flash of light, one hand clutched around his, the other shaking his shoulders; around them, light bursts through the courtyard. People pour from the trees, slip from the shadows. The Shibusen kids cheer, and his family becomes even more savage.

His mother lies dead on the ground. “I killed her,” he tells Tsubaki, as if she wasn’t the one who did the killing as well. As if she hadn’t felt his mother’s blood on her blade. He can see the fear in her eyes, the desperation and the sadness and it is all too much. His father is moving toward them again, slowly like a cat who knows they have their prey cornered.

Belatedly, Black Star realizes Tsubaki is trying to talk to him, her fingers digging so sharply into his shoulder that he winces. “--him, you just have to trust me!”

“What?” He asks, eyes darting over her shoulder at White Star, then back to her. “What are you saying?”

“We can kill him,” Tsubaki whispers, hand moving from his shoulder to his face when he turns his gaze away from her again. Her hand is sweaty but soft against his skin. “We’ll resonate. We’ll beat him.”

Black Star tightens his hand around Tsubaki’s, pulling her forward and away as his father swings down in what would have been a lethal blow if she hadn’t changed in that last second. Still, the way his father’s katana glances off her own blade must hurt, because he feels a shock go all the way up his arm and something dark appears on the blade. Blood.

I won’t let him kill you, he promises, slowing his heartbeat and concentrating on the fight. He needs to stop thinking of White Star as his father, and start thinking of him as an opponent. He needs to forget about everything else going on around them, at what surely must be Shibusen’s back up squad helping eradicate the threat that is his family.

He needs to focus on Tsubaki’s pleasant humming in his hand, needs to focus on matching their heartbeats and aligning their souls. They will win this, they will survive this.

Or she will, at least.

* * *

 

White Star was pleasantly surprised about the turn of events of the night. Or most of them, anyway. Izumi’s death had been something he hadn’t foreseen, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was becoming sloppy, useless, and it wouldn’t be long before she changed so completely that they would need to put her down. He didn’t really understand what it meant that his bloodline didn’t change as quickly as others did, but he didn’t mind. The extra bursts of speed, strength, and power were enough for him. He didn’t need the rest of what came with being a kishin.

His son, the boy who resembles his namesake so much, stares at the Shadow Weapon in front of him. She is a pretty little thing, but the type of pretty that boys like them had to kill for back in the day. It took a lot to catch their attention, and even more to keep it. It didn’t surprise him that the brat had somehow snagged her, and if circumstances were different, if the boy had brought her to him instead of trying to be noble, White Star would have liked to see how it would have played out.

Hindsight, unfortunately, is twenty-twenty. White Star flexes his hand around the hilt of his katana, grimacing as the one scythe-meister, Stein, takes Minako’s head off in one fell swoop. He winces as one of her girls shrieks, though he can’t tell which one. Either way, another of her little whores pulls the shrieking one away before anyone else can notice, and they slip away between the shadows.

Traitors.

White Star turns back to his son, calculating his next move. Below him, Izumi’s blood soaks into his boot.

He watches the was Black Star’s eyes close briefly, before opening again, more determined than they have a right to be. White Star scowls, lunges, aims to kill.

* * *

 

He can feel the resonance beneath his skin, nearly there. Like a word you can’t remember on the tip of your tongue, he can’t find it, can’t figure out how to trigger it. Tsubaki is trying to, he can tell, but they both need to be able to do it, not just one.

This time, as he fights White Star, he isn’t on the defensive, but his father’s match. Black Star feels like he might actually have the upper hand now. He’s not angry like he was before. He’s not desperate, or scared. He just is; calm and centered and determined not to die, not to let Tsubaki die. He’s going to show White Star who the real god is, who would have been better off leading the Clan.

He will show his father what he learned while he was banished, and when it dies it will be all his fault.

While Black Star’s attacks become more calculated, White Star’s are more random and hurried, especially as the fighting around them slows. The likelihood of him getting out of this alive is slim, he must know that.

If Black Star and Tsubaki don’t kill him, the Death Scythe will.

“You ungrateful,” his father spits, eyes flaring as Black Star lands a blow, shoving the hilt up under his chin, “horrible bastard.”

Almost there, Black Star thinks, not focusing on the words spewing from his father’s mouth, but Tsubaki’s warmth and her heartbeat.

“I should have killed you right after I killed Black Star--should have reached through your tiny chest and ripped out your heart the same way I did him. It would have saved me all the trouble of raising your stupid ass. It would have saved us all the trouble of keeping around a useless, no good piece of shit like you--”

He doesn’t let the realization that White Star killed the original Black Star faze him. It doesn’t matter, and it won’t matter. Almost there...

It clicks into place (finally, finally, finally) and something surges up within him; he is standing on water, in water, around water--there is endless blue and a girl stands a few feet away, smiling, glowing like an angel or a star. Then he is in the courtyard, ground stained with his family’s blood and he doesn’t even think he moves. One second, he is a few feet from his father, the next he has Tsubaki’s short sword shoved through White Star’s chest, twisting it savagely.

His father mocks Black Star’s movements, twisting his own blade that has somehow ended up in his middle. The only difference is that Black Star’s attack is fatal; White Star missed.

The air around them is still, quiet. Black Star notes that he and his father are the same height, the same build. In twenty years, in another life, that could be him.

Tsubaki appears between them, shoving White Star away and turning, grabbing Black Star before he can stumble. “Are you alright?” She breathes, looking worn and tired and horribly brilliant.

“Fine,” he mutters, hand clasping his side. Fucking goddamn it hurts but like hell he’s going to admit that. He probably looks cool as shit right now, okay?

White Star has fallen beside his wife, and his hand rises to clutch at his heaving chest. Black Star would spit if he weren’t worried about offending probably everyone in the courtyard. He has every right to do it, too. The fucker put him through so much shit, ruined everything.

Black Star stumbles forward a bit. “Can you tell me why?”

White Star’s eyes are full of malevolence and defeat. Black Star almost doesn’t think he’ll answer, but then he says in a slow, calm voice that belies any injury, “We wanted to be the best, boy. The only way to do that was to be better. Strong, faster, thirstier. When people would hear our name, they would cower in fear, pray to whichever god that we didn’t come knocking on their door. Your uncle couldn’t see that souls were the way to do this; he wanted to work harder.”

Tsubaki’s murmurs, “But you became monsters along the way.”

White Star’s head shakes against the grass, his wife’s blood staining his mop of white hair black. “No, Shadow Weapon; we became gods.”

No you didn’t, Black Star thinks quietly. He watches his father struggle to breathe, but he doesn’t feel sad, or angry. He feels relieved. “You ruined everything,” he mutters, fingers clenching around his side.

“We’re one of the same, you and me,” White Star hisses through the blood bubbling up from his throat. His chest heaves weakly. “Kinslayers, traitors. I’m mad and you will be too, one day. The path of the demon isn’t a choice for us, it just is. And when you eat your first soul, you’ll understand why I’ve done all that I’ve done.”

Black Star opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. For whatever he knows, White Star could be right.

Tsubaki answers for him, squatting down beside the dying thing (because he isn’t a man and he isn’t a kishin). She says, in a voice that brokers no argument, “No, Black Star will not be like you,” and she drags a finger across his throat, the tip of her nail glinting in the moonlight.

For a moment, nothing happens. And then his throat opens wide.

Black Star closes his eyes.

For what seems like a long time, the only thing he can hear is his father choking on his own blood. Eventually, he quiets, but Black Star can still hear it. He can still see it.

At some point, Tsubaki had stood back up beside him, twining her fingers with his. He knows that logically, he needs to leave while everyone is distracted, needs to run as far away as he can because they’ll arrest him or kill him, but he doesn’t. Despite himself, Black Star knows that whatever happens, he will deserve it, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from Tsubaki. She killed his father. She did it for him. She believes in him, and that’s a nice feeling.

Several people converge on them four hundred and twenty seconds after his father stops breathing. One man is covered in horrible looking scars, a large screw sticking out from his skull. Another redhaired man steps up beside Maka and Soul, hand protectively hovering over her shoulder. A man with blue skin and a woman with bandages stand beside the screw-head guy, looking concerned. The woman glances at the two bodies at their feet.

“Your name is Black Star?” The woman asks, voice powerful and sweet behind the bandages.

Pulling his hand from Tsubaki’s, Black Star nods. “Yeah, who’s askin’?”

“Mira Nygus.” He can hear the smirk despite not being able to see her face, and he likes this Nygus chick. “This here is my meister, Sid. You seem like an alright kid, and it’s clear Tsubaki trusts you, but we’ve gotta take you into custody and bring you back to Death City.”

“I figured,” Black Star nods, swallowing. “Can we get a move on it? This place is kinda putting a downer on my mood.”

Her eyes soften, and they are a pretty blue. She murmurs, “Yeah kid, let’s go,” and Black Star only casts one more look down at his mother and father before following Nygus into the night.

* * *

 

The cell they put him in is dank and dirty and cold. He doesn’t care much; it’s better than being dead outside the compound. His face is bandaged and itchy, the rest of him sore and bruised but otherwise okay. The wound his father had given him was superficial, really, even though it hurt like a motherfucker.

It’s been a week, maybe a few more days than that since he’d been put here. It’s harder to tell time when he can’t see the sky, but Tsubaki visits almost every day and it’s easy to keep track  that way. She and Sid are the only people who come down to see him; Sid brings him food and water, sometimes talks to him about training and weapons, while Tsubaki brings gossip about his trial and what she thinks they might do. She very carefully avoids the subject of him possibly (definitely) dying. He doesn’t know why she seems to worry about it. He kidnapped her, he hurt her, he put her through some shit.

Black Star is not a good person, not at all. He wonders if Tsubaki is blind to it, or if she chooses not to see it. Either way, it’s not good. If he wasn’t so bored he would tell her to go away.

She brings more than just information about the trial, too. At the compound they killed White Star, Grey Star, Yellow Star, Minako, and a few towns away they killed Goro and Ryuuji. Naomi, Mika, and Rika escaped, as well as Daichi and Katsuya.

The latter he is not worried about. The former...they’re a threat. After she tells him they escaped, he dreams of them slipping into Death City and killing Tsubaki in her sleep. Of torturing her. He wakes sweating and anxious and nearly breaks out of the cell that night.

Now, as Tsubaki tells him about her time before Spartoi, they hear footsteps clicking down the hall. Tsubaki glances over, brows furrowed briefly before smoothing out, mouth forming a thin line.

So they’ve figured out what to do with him.

Sid is there to escort him to see Death, and with him are two Death Scythes, Marie and Spirit, and Stein, a powerful meister who can wield both of them. Black Star tries to pretend he isn’t nervous, and outwardly he thinks he does a pretty great job. Better than Tsubaki, at least, who frets and walks behind him the entire time, fingers in her mouth as she chews at her fingernails.

Inwardly, he’s pretty fuckin’ stressed. He’s thought about it, and death doesn’t sound like too much fun. Especially not if his entire family is there. Jesus, he really doesn’t want to die.

The walk is over almost too soon, and when he finally sees Death, he is only mildly surprised that the rest of the Spartoi team are there too. Soul offers him a small nod, and Maka smiles weakly from her position beside him.

Black Star comes to a stop in front of the thing--a huge floating black thing with a mask that is not all that threatening--and if there is a slight tremble in his shoulders, it’s because his hands are tied tightly behind his back.

Death raises his huge, gloved hand above his head, and Black Star closes his eyes.

The killing blow doesn’t come. A horrible, skull-rattling hit does and he thinks his brains might leak out of his ears, but he’s not dead and that’s great but what the holy fuck?

Opening his eyes and hoping none of the moisture welling up within them doesn’t slip out, he growls at Death, baring his teeth. “What the fuck was that!?”

“Hey now,” Death says playfully, shaking one finger in his direction. “Watch your language! To answer your question, that was part one of your punishment!”

“What the fuck?”

He gets another whap for that and he squats to the floor, tucking his head between his knees as his ears ring. Jesus Christ, he needs out of this place. The voice that came out of Death’s mouth was not in any way suited for a god, especially not one of death. There are a few giggles around him, but he’s too annoyed to look up and glare at whoever it is.

“Now, I know who you are, Black Star of the Star Clan. I know what you’ve done, and I don’t like it one bit! You have to understand that this means a very severe punishment. Like death, for example.”

Black Star straightens when Death’s tone becomes a little darker. His head still throbs but he doesn’t want to look weak when Death hands down his punishment. “Alright, lay it on me, big guy.”

Death tilts his head curiously. “Tsubaki spoke highly of you, even though you were not very kind to her.”

“Did she forget to mention that she stabbed me? Because that happened.”

Nobody hits him this time. Instead, Death laughs. “She didn’t tell me that! Good job, Tsubaki. I’m sure your teachers would be very proud. Now,” he directs his mask-gaze toward Black Star, and if it were possible, Black Star might think he were smiling. “What you did to your father and mother must have been very difficult, but it was unfortunately necessary. Not only did you do myself and the academy good, but you are also the only person we have seen Tsubaki actually enjoy fighting with in all her years here. Miss Albarn over there came in a close second, but she and her partner are very suited for each other.”

Black Star turns slightly, meeting Tsubaki’s gaze. Her mouth is lifted in a small smile, but he can’t tell what she’s thinking. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Is he being let go? What. The. Fuck.

“So! I thought it would be a great idea if you were Tsubaki’s partner! It would be a probationary period and all of your missions would be monitored by teachers or the Spartoi team. If you prove that you can be loyal to both Tsubaki and Shibusen, then perhaps we can see about more. For now, you will be bound to the city unless a mission requires otherwise, and you will attend classes in the EAT program.”

Black Star stares, mouth hanging open dumbly. They’re letting him live? He’s gonna be Tsubaki’s meister? He has to go to school? No. No fucking way this is actually happening. It can’t be happening, right? There isn’t a--this isn’t possible--

He swallows back something thick in his throat, meeting Death’s eyes (or eyeholes, really). “What else?”

“He’s smart, at least,” Stein drawls from behind him, sounding bored with the world. “You’ll be telling us anything and everything about the Star Clan members who escaped. Where we might be able to find them, and what kind of abilities they possess.”

He grits his teeth at that. Still, he can’t complain or refuse. He’s killed his own family, it’s not like ratting on them would make him more of a traitor. Besides, Mika, Naomi and Rika would kill him the first chance they got. At least he could lie about Daichi and Katsuya.

“Alright,” he nods, glancing at Tsubaki again. “I’m in.”

The smile she gives him is small, tentative. It’s not the first new beginning he’s had in his life, but he hopes it’s his last.

 

 


	9. Epilogue

The soul does not taste the way it should, but it’s the best Mika will get for the time being. She chews quickly, swallowing bits as they break off, trying not to let it linger on her tongue too long. She prefers her souls fresh, she prefers them human.

This weapon shit is disgusting, and if she were a weapon--and a slingshot to boot--she would have killed herself long ago. Her fingers twitch as she finished the soul and she straightens, dusting the bottom of her pants off as she checks her surroundings. Rika had taken the meister’s soul, tearing into it savagely and Naomi had choked down the pre-kishin’s soul, but Mika could smell that they were still hungry.

She wondered how Black Star’s soul would taste, or that stupid cunt Shadow Weapon’s. Mika would love to gorge herself on their souls, or to eat the Shadow Weapon’s in front of Black Star. It would serve the prick right for ruining everything.

“Mika,” Naomi barked at the mouth of the alley, mouth red and raw and irritated from the pre-kishin soul. “We’re leaving.”

Mika looked at the body once more, at the weapon’s blank gaze, pretty grey eyes marred by the poison that had worked through his system. It bubbled his skin and boiled him from the inside out.

Rika had gone into great detail of how she would kill Black Star. Naomi had chimed in every so often, and both had been equally violent and quick. Not to mention the ways they would kill the scythe meister who killed Minako and Grey Star.

Mika didn’t think that killing him quickly would be a good idea. Making him suffer would be best. He ruined everything. He was the reason Mother and Chika were dead.

A whistle startled her from her thoughts, and Mika looked up to see Naomi tapping her foot impatiently. “Let’s go.”

Her cousin’s hair was nearly all gone--burned off by the witch-girl and her weapon--and her face was nearly indistinguishable from all the cuts. Mika and Rika had their fair share of wounds as well, but not as horrible as Naomi’s.

Yes, Mika smiled, skipping down the alley toward her cousin. Black Star will die slowly. A wound to him and his weapon for every wound they inflicted upon us.

She couldn’t wait.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There willlllll be a sequel! Thanks for reading~


End file.
